


The Lies We Told

by KaCole



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s02e25 Resolutions, Episode: s02e26 Basics Part 1, Episode: s03e01 Basics Part 2, Episode: s03e08 Future's End, Episode: s03e09 Future's End Part II, Episode: s03e11 Q and the Grey, Episode: s03e26 Scorpion, Episode: s05e06 Timeless, Episode: s07e25 Endgame (Star Trek: Voyager), F/M, Fluff, Love, New Earth (Star Trek), Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Romance, Slow Burn, alpha quadrant life, bath tub, starwatching, tree chopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 58,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaCole/pseuds/KaCole
Summary: Imagine this: Janeway and Chakotay stranded on New Earth for months instead of weeks. How would their relationship evolve? And what would the consequences be for the remainder of their time on Voyager and beyond?Fair warning: this is a sexy, slow burn, angst-filled epic with an eventual happy ending.





	1. Prologue: A Patient Man

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @calidanablue for the superb beta reading. If anyone else would like to jump in as an additional beta reader/idea churner, please get in touch!

In a fit of either optimism, nostalgia, or possibly lack of imagination, Chakotay and Kathryn christened their home “New Earth”.

Although Chakotay felt sure Kathryn considered their enforced stay exile, everything here felt new to him, full of possibilities he’d hardly dared dream of. He felt himself unwinding as the days passed; Starfleet faded, and the Maquis became a distant memory. If he’d told his eighteen year old self he could be happy in a place like this, that insolent young man would have laughed scornfully. But there was no denying it: this planet was captivating; the warm sun on his shoulders, the lush forest at his back, the cool crystal river winding down from the mountain, and Kathryn Janeway at his side. _Kathryn_. The most delectable mystery of all.

She was ready to check her insect traps. She wore a blue dress and her hair long, free of the colours of command, and yet she still wore that almost-frown of concentration nearly as often as she had on _Voyager_.

He'd watched her every morning, and he'd gotten to the point where he had to say something. “You’ve been at it twelve hours a day, seven days a week since we got here, and we’re still no closer to a cure than the day we were infected.” He kept his tone light. It wasn’t his intention to accuse, but he’d watched her wrestle with the problem for weeks now without success of any kind.

She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

He sighed. “My people have a saying. “ _Even the eagle must know when to sleep_.” Maybe it's time we both considered that.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean quit. Give up?”

He knew she hated to be beaten by any problem, so he tried to reach her by framing it a different way. “Why do you have to see it as defeat? Maybe it’s simply accepting what life has dealt us and finding the good in it.” And New Earth had plenty to offer. They could build a good, long life here, together, if she stopped long enough to let herself.

She smiled, not unkindly. “There may be a day when I’ll come to that, Chakotay, but I’m a long way from it right now. I need to keep looking.”

What could he do but accept her choice and respect her space? But as Kathryn kept searching for escape, he started building them a life. That was his job now, he decided. A builder. Not an avenger or a warrior, and certainly not her first officer. Just a man who hoped to build a life with her, one day. When she was ready to let go. She wasn’t there yet, but that was okay. He’d walk alongside her until then.

He was a patient man.


	2. Life is About More Than Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn starts to reconsider her future on New Earth.

The day after the plasma storm was unusually warm. All day they worked hard clearing the worst of the debris, but there remained much more to do. Kathryn did her level best to not appear bitter about her lost equipment and research. Her old life, her family, her fiancé, even her dog, felt further out of reach than ever. But railing at life here would feel like a rejection to Chakotay, so for his sake she quashed her resentment.

That night she resorted to a long soak in the tub to revive her aching limbs and defuse her exasperation.

“Kathryn?” Chakotay said from the doorway. He rarely emerged from their shelter when she was bathing, and when he did he always called first.

“It’s all right, Chakotay.”

He appeared with a tumbler of golden liquid. “After the day we’ve had, I thought you might like a drink.” He passed her the glass.

It was fiery, but after a moment the taste of spring flowers and citrus settled on her pallet. “Hmmm, that’s good. What is it?”

“Tauran brandy. I haven’t drunk it for years, but the replicator can make it.” He glanced at her for only the briefest of moments before he added, “Dinner in ten minutes.”  

She watched him return to the shelter. Perhaps he’d been right all along. Maybe it was time to accept what life had dealt her and find the good in it. So. If she couldn’t escape this planet then perhaps she could conquer it? Weather patterns. Soil samples. Planting schedules. They had seeds aplenty in the stores and it would make their lives easier if they grew food successfully. It was about time she started contributing something to his efforts at making a home here.

After dinner she began her new task; aggregating the climate data they had gathered so far. Stooped over the workbench, her shoulders soon paid the price after the day’s physical work.

“My knots have knots,” she complained, rubbing her neck.

Of course he rose to help, and there was no point denying it, his fingers felt delightful, probing and working the stiff muscles in her neck and shoulders. She closed her eyes and let herself drift in the sea of delicious sensations flooding her body.

“I was the only one my mother trusted not to make her sore neck worse,” he said.

The rush of pleasure sparking through her was anything but maternal. _I’m not your mother._ The thought echoed in Kathryn’s head, and for a terrible moment she feared she’d spoken aloud. Flustered, she stood up and faced him, acutely embarrassed, face hot, body tingling, mind racing.

“Thank you. That’s much better. Well, I’m going to bed now. See you in the morning.”

He looked almost shy. “Sleep well.”

“You too.” Kathryn forced herself to walk slowly to her room, and fell into bed feeling wretched. In complaining about her neck she’d practically _invited_ him to massage her shoulders. She’d just opened the door and then slammed it in his face.

She tossed and turned. Why? Why this war with herself? They weren't on  _Voyager_ anymore. She’d never captain a ship again, and in all honesty the chances of even leaving this planet were vanishingly remote. What held her back? Was Starfleet protocol so deeply embedded in her DNA that even now she had to hold the line? Did she still think that she’d get home, and fear living with an indiscretion? Or worse, having to choose between Chakotay and Mark? She didn’t even know. But she did know that she had to take control of this situation before emotional turmoil swept her away. All her life she’d lived by her intellect and reason, and her head was screaming at her. She got up.

“I think we should redefine the parameters of our relationship.”

She saw in his eyes that he’d expected it.

He told her a beautiful tale, making it easy for them to slip back into that safe space they’d dug for themselves. That night, Chakotay was a hero. Courageous, noble and wise.

As she lay down a second time, feeling only a little less wretched than the first time, a voice in her head whispered that she didn’t deserve him.

#

Days later, Chakotay emerged from the cabin and squatted at Kathryn’s side. The seeds she’d germinated inside their cabin had grown into healthy shoots and she was on her knees, planting each one carefully in the warm soil. She looked contented, letting the soil run between her fingers. She had promised him tomatoes and in return he’d pledged her soup. It felt like they were finally working together, if not quite on the same page, at least they were both in the same chapter.

“If your tomatoes can spare you, I’d like your opinion on something.”

She smiled. “You’ve come to the right person. I have lots of opinions.”

There was an ease in the way they walked to the cabin, a freedom they’d never felt on _Voyager_. It left him with a warm feeling in his bones that was nothing to do with the sunlight and everything to do with the woman beside him. She bumped his arm with her own, and sent a tiny shockwave sparking through him.

Once inside, Chakotay gestured toward a schematic on the computer screen.

“A boat?” She rubbed her hands on a towel and smiled in delight. “We could explore the river. Take tents and go on an expedition.”

“There’d be no bath.”

“That’s all right, I’ll have the river.”

Images of Kathryn bathing in the crystal waters were enough to set him off tingling again.

Chakotay looked up and frowned as a chirping sound began. He searched the cabin. “It’s coming from in here.” Slowly, he opened her bedroom door. A grey and purple insect, five or six centimeters long, sat in the middle of her bed. It had a lean body, three sets of legs and an elongated nose that looked like a proboscis. It was rubbing the front pair of legs together and was clearly the source of the chirping sound.

“Could you get the holoimager?” Kathryn asked. “I want to make a database of all life forms on this planet.”

As Chakotay returned with the device, Kathryn was crouched by her bed. “I’m sorry, you can’t sleep in here. This spot is taken.”

Kathryn snatched an image moments before their visitor took flight. The insect whizzed erratically around their heads, its wings a blur of movement casting a violet glow in the air. Kathryn stumbled backwards, tipping into him, and he looped his arms around her waist to stop her from falling.

“That’s quite spectacular,” she said, not moving away, apparently content in his arms watching the insect leave whirling tracks of iridescent light above them.

“Beautiful,” he agreed, softly. He didn’t know which was more breathtaking, the impromptu light show above their heads or having her pressed close to him like this.

He held still, almost afraid to break the spell. The intimacy of the moment stole his breath away. She covered his hands with hers, as if letting herself enjoy his body at her back, and for a moment he thought she might turn around to face him. Then the creature dived.

“Look out!” They both ducked as the insect skimmed their heads and zipped away through the open door.

She tilted her head to one side and patted his hand. “Thank you, Chakotay. I’m fine now.”

“Of course,” he said, and stepped back. “Ah, we might want to replicate a net screen for the door. With the warm weather we’ll want to leave it open, but we don’t want a nest of whatever that was taking up residence.”

“Good plan,” she said, a little flushed at the cheeks if he wasn’t mistaken, and with more enthusiasm than the idea of a net screen truly warranted. She backed away towards the door. “I'll get on that right now.”

He sighed and shook his head as she rushed from the room. Patience, he reminded himself.  

#

“You don’t have to fix me breakfast every morning,” Kathryn said, after he’d called her in from her plants and set a bowl of danea berries on the table.

“Hmm, you’d survive the whole day on coffee if I didn’t. Besides, I enjoy it.”

She wasn’t quite sure if he meant he enjoyed making her breakfast or sitting down together to eat. She had to admit she was getting quite used to the routine they shared.

“I like it too,” she said. “And I’m grateful.”

He flashed his gentle smile. “What are you working on today?”

“We’ve had good success with the root vegetables, so I’m going to try germinating some brocalian beans. I’ve constructed a glass frame so I can do it outdoors. I don’t want us overrun with seedlings in here like last time.”

“Beans. That sounds good. I can work with that.”

“How about you?”

“I’m going to fit the tiller to the boat.”

“You know, we might be able to put that boat to good use add fresh fish to our diet. Have you noticed any in the river?”

“No, but we can scan and see. Oh, I almost forgot. I made you something.  A couple of weeks ago I found a broken branch with unusual coloured wood.” He disappeared into his room, and returned moments later with a small box in his hands. It was a deep rich red, and he’d carved a pattern onto the top; an old gnarly tree with vines twisting up its trunk. He’d lined inside the box with red velvet.

“It’s lovely,” she murmured.

He ran his finger over the carving. “I walk by this tree every day to reach the river.”

“I’m a little surprised you took time away from your boat project to do this.”

His smile dropped. “Kathryn, building a life is about more than survival. It’s about imagining something beautiful and bringing it to life. I wanted you to have this.”

Great. She’d crushed him again; when that was the last thing she’d intended to do. She reached for his hand. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”

He squeezed her hand lightly. “Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

Chakotay’s words echoed in her mind as the day went on. That brief glimpse of pain in his eyes haunted her. Why did she keep hurting him? That wasn’t her intention, but it seemed to keep happening anyway.

She stopped work a little earlier than usual, cleaned up, and examined the contents of their refrigeration unit. Some mushrooms, plant-based protein slabs that resembled steaks, and root vegetables.

This must be his plan for dinner. It was about time she did something nice for him. How hard could it possibly be?

#

Chakotay strode home through the forest, feeling happy about the day. The fit of the tiller had been perfect, and he’d found a fine straight, tree, perfect for a mast, to fell and mill tomorrow.

As he approached the cabin, he smelled burning. He picked up pace, panic hovering in his chest. Pale smoke poured from the open door.

He rushed inside. “Kathryn?” The cabin was thick with eye-stinging smoke.

She stood in front of the stove, a damp cloth in her hands, coughing, smothering the flames licking up the side of a griddle pan.

He grabbed another cloth and added to her efforts. When the flames were out, he switched off the heat under the other pans, and with his own eyes streaming he guided her to the door.

Once in the fresh air, she doubled up coughing, clutching her hand.

He helped her sit on one of the outdoor chairs. “What happened?”

“I was trying to cook you dinner. Then I got distracted. And…” she waved a hand at the cabin.

“Kathryn, how can you captain a starship so adeptly and yet lose control of a few pots and pans?”

“It’s a gift,” she croaked, her eyes streaming with tears.

“Let me see your hand,” he said.

“It’s nothing.” Her breath came in wheezy, short gasps. 

What was it with her masochistic tendencies? “Let me see,” he said firmly.

She raised an eyebrow, but gave him her hand.

The burn on her palm was blistering red. It must hurt like hell. “Kathryn. That’s not nothing. I’ll go in and set the environmental controls to purge the smoke, and get the med kit.”

She made to stand up. “I’ll—”

He planted his hands firmly on her shoulders. “You’ll stay right here.” He eased her back into her seat. “We’re not on _Voyager_ now. I’m giving _you_ an order.”

She tried to huff but descended into a fit of helpless coughing.

Chakotay covered his nose and mouth with his tunic, and hurried inside. A minute later, he returned with a med kit in his hand.

“How bad is it in there?” she asked.

“Not quite as bad as it looked. The extraction fan will deal with the smoke. I fear our dinner is beyond hope, though.” He squatted in front of her and ran a medical tricorder over her chest. “Fortunately you haven’t damaged your lungs.” He took her hand and began to examine her blistered palm.

“I’m sorry, Chakotay. I wanted to do something nice for you. In return for…” She winced as he pressed a hypospray to her neck to ease the pain. “Well, for everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Kathryn. Everything I do, I do because I’m happy to.”

“You carry my burdens,” she whispered.

He smiled silently, and exchanged the hypospray for a dermal regenerator. He held the tips of her fingers and moved the device back and forth across her palm until her skin was tender pink instead of raw red. “How does that feel?” he asked, straightening up.

Kathryn examined his work. “Much better.”

He offered her his hand, and she pulled herself up with her good hand, until she was standing so close he felt a shock in his chest. She held on, not pulling back or looking away. They had held hands before, of course. Stood this close before, but it had never felt quite like this, with his treacherous heart desperate to thunder out his secrets, and her eyes full of uncertainty. 

He suddenly understood why people clasp hands. It wasn’t a demonstration of ownership or sexual possession. It was a way to speak without words. To let someone know you would stand by them without question. It was about human connection and trust. And that was what they both needed right now. It was as simple and as complicated as that. He wouldn’t push her, but as he looked into her blue eyes, and she smiled back tenderly, his long held hopes began to take root.

#

Kathryn spent the next morning studying climate data and working out schedules for planting. According to her calculations of the planet’s orbit it was almost midsummer, so she’d need to think about seeding winter crops in the next month. She was pouring herself the second coffee of the day when she noticed Chakotay had left his lunch bag behind on the counter.

She could stroll to the river and take it to him so he didn’t have to trudge back to the shelter through the punishing heat of the day. She quickly replicated herself a light lunch and tucked it inside the bag with Chakotay’s.

As she walked through the forest the heat built steadily. Even the thick canopy wasn't enough to tame the relentless sun. The hoot of primates and click of insects reminded her of the tropics on Earth where she’d spend a summer before the Academy.

Using the tricorder, she located Chakotay’s life signs, and then followed the sound of a regular thwack of metal against wood. She stepped into a clearing to see him, axe raised high in mid-swing.

He was shirtless.

She’d never seen him striped to the waist before. Why should she have? She knew his back was broad and his arms strong, but to see them gleaming with sweat transfixed her.

He must have heard her footsteps, for he paused and turned towards her. His skin was deeply tanned. He must have been working shirtless for weeks. She stopped in her tracks and found herself staring at his well-defined chest, her mouth slightly open, her face instantly heated.

“Kathryn?”

“Ah, you forgot your lunch. I thought maybe we could eat together. I packed my own food…” She was babbling like a schoolgirl with a crush, looking at the bag, the forest floor, anywhere but at his smooth, naked chest, when in fact she was consumed with a powerful urge to do just the opposite. She made a concerted effort to hide her blushes.

Still slightly breathless, he just smiled, deploying his dimples full force. That just made the whole damn situation worse. He’d clearly noticed her noticing him. Without hurrying, he grabbed a towel and mopped his brow.

“I appreciate that. Its hot work,” he said, nodding at the axe. “I need to finish this, but it shouldn’t take too long. Do you mind waiting?”

“Of course not. Please, go ahead.” It would be no hardship to watch the completion of this particular task. What could be the harm in it? Kathryn settled by a tree a safe distance away and crossed her legs.

He began chopping again, his muscles rippling with each swing, his shoulders taut as metal bit into wood. He was breathing hard now, and each time he jerked the axe free from where it was buried deep in the trunk, he made a grunt at the back of his throat. Then he pulled back and swung again. The way his body moved was hypnotic, mocking her with his damn near perfect physique. New Earth certainly agreed with him.

Kathryn’s whole body flushed. On reflection, perhaps it wasn’t wise to watch him, so raw and energised, immersed in his task, as if the tree was the only thing in the world needing his attention. Would he direct his diligence to her in the same way he was thrusting that axe into the tree? She groaned internally. No. She wasn’t going there, not while she felt so conflicted. It wouldn’t be fair on either of them. She tore her eyes away.

But why not, a treacherous voice whispered. He'd made no secret of his attraction to her. Even before they had been stranded here there had been frisson between them that she couldn't entirely ignore, as much as she'd tried to. But now… What exactly was she frightened of?

She had no better answer than getting closer to Chakotay still felt like betraying Mark.

Soon his work reached a climax, and he paused, hand on the trunk, as the great tree began to tip. A mighty crack splintered through the forest as the tree crashed to the ground.  

He stood over his conquest, every bit the warrior.

Satisfied, he turned back to Kathryn, and she deliberately averted her eyes from his glistening chest, trying very hard not to respond inappropriately to this wonder of nature in front of her.

Kathryn curled her hands into fists, but kept her tone casual. “You know, you could use a phaser to do that.”

“Of course. But the axe keeps me fit.”

“So I see.” Kathryn flushed scarlet. His eyes burned her, and for a torturous moment she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his. She had to get a grip! _You’ve embarrassed yourself quite enough for one day._ She got to her feet, and asked, “Where shall we eat?”

“How about by the redwood?” he turned his back on her and pulled on his shirt, to her simultaneous relief and disappointment.

“The tree you made my beautiful box from?”

He turned, his white shirt clinging to his chest. “That’s right. It's just a few minutes’ walk.”

Kathryn gestured along the forest path. “Lead the way.” She let out a long breath and followed him, her cheeks still burning with the memory of his bare chest.

The redwood tree was even more impressive than the stylised version he’d carved on the box. It towered above the younger trees, its trunk gnarled and wide. The bark was a deep purple red, and the leaves silvery green, reflecting the sunlight in scattered droplets of light.

Kathryn gazed upwards, awed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That’s not the only thing,” he said, beckoning her closer. “Here, feel this.” He gestured for her hand and pressed it against the tree trunk, covering hers with his own, standing so close behind her she felt the heat of his breath on her neck.

“What?” she asked, nerves biting at her.

“Hush. Just listen and let yourself feel,” he said softly.

Kathryn held her breath as the noises of the forest fell away. She felt the connection, first between their joined hands and then the tree itself tingling under her palm. A gentle vibration travelled up her arm and into her chest, and settled in her heart like a soft song.

She gasped. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “But I think of it as the heart of the forest.”

“Let me get the tricorder—”

“I’d rather you didn’t. Whatever this is it’s a part of this world, and bigger than we are. Some things I don’t want to explain away.” He spoke quietly, his arm pressed close to hers, his chest once again against her back. She felt soothed. Calm. Safe.

She relaxed, and let herself truly feel the deep tremor resonating inside her, a harmony of possibilities. Warmth spread through her chest. “Is it always like this?”

“Not always. Sometimes it seems slow and sad. But today…I don’t know. It feels...hopeful.”

His voice, always smooth, felt like a silk caress.The thrumming of the tree roused her body awake, tingling and wanting. _Wanting_. She turned her head a little towards him, acutely conscious of the warmth radiating from body, so close to hers, and the deep need it stirred within her. She could let herself enjoy the closeness. She could just give in to that urge to let him hold her. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. But she shouldn’t. Damn it! Her conflicted mind just wouldn’t shut up. Why did this wrangle between her head and her heart have to make life so complicated?

The vibrations in the tree trunk turned discordant, grinding. She tensed, and Chakotay stepped back, as if she’d scalded him.

“I’m sorry, Kathryn,” he said, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Do you need to redefine the parameters of our relationship again?” There was a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Her throat tightened. He’d seen her look, noticed her flush. It must be painfully obvious just how attractive she found him. How could she keep doing this to him?

Heart racing, she stepped closer to him and took his hand. “No, Chakotay, I don’t. I’m still working through some things. Being trapped here. Starfleet. Mark. Mostly Mark. Please. Can we take this one step at a time?”

He relaxed a little and smiled, his eyes softened. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere." He squeezed her hand gently. "Shall we eat?”

  

They settled on a blanket of moss in the redwood’s shade. The heat made them both lazy, and an hour had passed before they knew it.

Kathryn lay back and looked at the sky. “You know, according to the astronomical charts _Voyager_ left us, there’ll be a comet passing through this system next week.  Should create a meteor shower over this hemisphere. We could stay awake and watch.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Closest we’ll come to the stars again,” she said, almost dreamily. She sighed, and turned over to rest on her stomach, propped up on her elbows. “I wonder how they’re doing.”

“ _Voyager_? They’re a fine crew. They’ll be all right.”

She shook her head. “I stranded them out here and then I left them. They must have blamed me for that. God knows I blamed myself enough over the last two years.”

He lay still, as if considering his response, with his eyes closed. He was majestic in the dappled light under the redwood. “Some of them, at first. But they came to trust and respect you pretty quickly.”

“I guess they didn't have much choice.”

“You _earned_ their respect.” A gentle smile played on his lips. “You're a straightforward captain, if not a straightforward woman.” He opened one eye and squinted at her.

She quirked an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s fair, under the circumstances.”

“You are a wonderful mystery to me, Kathryn Janeway.” He stood up, and ever the perfect gentleman, offered her his hand.

She took it and hauled herself up. “Not a pain in your ass?”

“Well, that too. But I forgive you.”

She laughed. He was unfailingly kind, this gentle warrior, more than she deserved, probably, but she was tremendously glad of his patience. “I'll see you tonight.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said, smiling, and then he called, “No more cooking!”

She raised her hand as she walked away. “Wouldn't dream of it.”  

Kathryn almost floated home through the forest, her body still tingling, and her heart a little lighter.


	3. Letting the Stars Come to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay and Kathryn enjoy a night under the stars, and he tells her a bittersweet story.

Chakotay had made a small table and two comfortable wooden chairs and in the warmer weather it had become his and Kathryn’s habit to eat outside the cabin, and share a glass of Tauran brandy after their meal.

He sat back and felt the peace of this place in his bones. Kathryn returned from taking their plates inside with a bottle and two glasses, and sat by his side. The air was laden with the heady scent of forest flowers, the moon full, and the stars glittered like diamonds in a velvet sky.

“Perfect conditions to view a meteor shower,” he said, glancing across at Kathryn as she poured the brandy. “What time will it start?”

“By my calculations, around midnight. It’ll peak sometime close to oh two hundred hours.” She looked at him, her face relaxed and content as she leaned back in her seat. “Would you tell me about the boat while we’re waiting?”

“I think I need about a month. I’m ready to fell another tree, but the one I want is some distance from the work site, so I’ll have to mill it and carry it.”

“We could use the shuttle’s transporter.”

“I know. But I don’t think I want to. There’s something satisfying about doing it by hand.” He liked the physicality of it, being in the fresh air, working his muscles. He felt leaner and stronger than he had in years, and it didn’t hurt that Kathryn seemed to appreciate his new physique too, judging by her response to seeing him shirtless. He certainly wasn’t above capitalising on her interest any way he could.

“You sound like Professor Hannity at the academy,” she said.

“The survival instructor?”

“You remember her?”

“How could I forget? As a cadet, she expected me to be a lot better at surviving than I actually was. Then she apologised to me for making assumptions based on my culture.”

“Did she? She wasn’t nearly so nice to me. I always intended to ask my father what he’d done to annoy her so much that the name Janeway sent her into a tailspin. I never did get the chance ask him.” Her face fell into sadness, and he wondered what was going on behind her eyes.

He wanted to reach out, take her hand and comfort her, but he held back. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled softly. “Who thought our lives would pan out this way? I was sent to capture you. Instead, I stranded us all in the Delta Quadrant.”

He laughed. “You _did_ capture me. Mind you, I’m not complaining. I'd be stuck in a Starfleet prison right now if your mission had gone to plan.”  

“And I'd be…” she looked up at the distant stars, and then shook her head. “It doesn't matter. It's getting a little colder, don't you think?” She poured them both another generous brandy, and raised her glass. “To warm us up.”

Kathryn drained her glass, and not long after her eyes closed. The air was cooler now, so he went inside to pick up the blanket from her sleeping compartment. She'd placed the redwood box he'd given her on the cabinet next to her bed, right beside a neat row of four command pips. He picked one up and held it in his palm. She still couldn’t let go of the captain. Maybe she never would, not completely, but he couldn't help hoping, and he’d never stop trying to win her heart.

He put the pip back in its row. Tucking the blanket under his arm he headed back outside to cover her gently with the blanket. He'd never seen her sleep before. Unconscious, yes. On a bio-bed, or flung injured to the floor. Never resting peacefully like she was now. Awake or asleep she was beautiful. He felt a powerful need to be beside her when she woke in the dark on an alien world. For now, perhaps not quite in the way he’d like, but this was more than he dared hope for two years ago when they started their journey.

The meteor shower began with one or two pricks of light piercing the sky.

He shook her arm gently. “Kathryn, it's starting.”

She woke, noticed the blanket, and smiled. “Did I sleep long?”

“About twenty minutes. Look.” He pointed to a shooting star blazing across the sky. The silver streaks came steadily faster until the sky was sprinkled with falling stars.

She gazed up in rapt wonder. “We bend subspace and race through the galaxy faster than the speed of light. Pass through solar systems in the blink of an eye. But I've never stopped and let the stars come to me before.”

She looked across at him. There was something in her eyes he couldn't name, and when she reached across and took his hand it sent a shiver down his spine. She laced her fingers through his, smiling. “Some cultures believed shooting stars were the heavens falling or gods doing battle, but it's really just particles of dust burning up in the atmosphere.”

“There's a story among my people.”

“Is this a real story?” she said, squeezing his hand.

He offered her a sly smile. “Shadowan and Panwa were lovers from different tribes who could never be together because their fathers were bitter enemies. But Shadowan and Panwa were brave and true of heart, and beloved of the hosts of heaven. Every day they were apart the angels shed a tear. And when those tears fell to earth, they lit up the world.”

“These lovers. Did they ever come together?”

“No, never. I didn't say it was a _happy_ story.”

She fell silent. She poured another brandy, and they watched the sprinkling of stars paint the sky until the shower hit its peak, and then began to slow.

The air became silent and chilled. “Kathryn?” She'd drifted to sleep again, fingers still entwined with his.

“Hmm?”

“Time for bed.” He tugged her hand, encouraging her gently to her feet.

“If you say so.” She pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders, looking deliciously sleepy and ruffled. “I may be a tiny bit light-headed,” she said conspiratorially. “Don't tell my first officer. He might not approve.”

She was bleary-eyed, and he was a little afraid she'd trip, so he guided her towards the cabin with one arm around her shoulder. “I won't tell if you don’t.”

He helped her inside her tiny sleeping cubicle. She kicked off her shoes and lay on her bed fully dressed. He covered her with the blanket, and paused for a moment crouched at her side, his heart full with love and longing.

“I can't imagine life without you,” she whispered, as she closed her eyes.

Chest tight, heart skipping, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Nor can I.” As he turned to leave, her lips curled into a soft smile, and he felt one step closer to his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a short but (I hope) intensely sweet chapter.   
> Next week be prepared for a longer, rougher ride with a satisfying resolution, when Chakotay and Kathryn face *The Mountain*


	4. The Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is bothering Kathryn, and she's reluctant to share what it is with Chakotay. They decide to hike up a mountain, but both get more than they bargained for.

Three days after their time under the stars, Chakotay still felt the warm glow the evening had left him with. He hummed softly as he prepared breakfast.

Kathryn emerged from their small bathroom, looking more ruffled than usual. She glanced listlessly at the berries and cereal. “I think I’ll just have coffee this morning.”

“Are you feeling all right?”

She flashed a smile and then turned to the replicator. “Oh, I’m fine. Just need a little pick me up.”

He watched her back, noticing the tension in the way she held her shoulders, but glanced away before she joined him at the table.

“I sometimes think the universe has a strange sense of humour,” she said into her coffee cup, not looking up.

“What do you mean?” The sadness in her eyes jolted him.

She smiled. “Oh Chakotay,  ignore me. What do you have planned for the day?”

He squinted at her, not really inclined to believe her avoidance tactics. He _could_ press her to say more, but that uncompromising Captain Janeway look was back in her eye. “I milled some planks yesterday, and I have a few more to do today. How about you?”

“I’m going to spend some time with the beans. Maybe collate the soil composition and climate data I’ve compiled so far.” Her eyes were distant, her hands clasped tightly around her coffee cup. Again he almost asked her what was wrong, but before he could open his mouth she drained her coffee, stood, and refilled her cup. He didn’t know what to say to reach her, and he suspected if he tried she’d rebuff him.

In the end, he just said, “I’m about to make myself food to carry out for the day. I’ll leave something for you in the refrigeration unit. If you’re skipping breakfast, will you at least eat lunch?”

She nodded absently, and he had to content himself with her lack-luster reply.

 

Chakotay’s day didn’t improve when he got to his work site. The wood he’d milled into planks yesterday must have been much softer than he’d thought as they’d warped overnight, leaving them useless.

Kathryn’s odd behaviour this morning had left him with an uneasy feeling that stayed with him the whole day long. It seemed like they’d taken one step forward and two steps back, but he couldn’t for the life of him fathom out what was going on. He hadn’t done something to upset her, had he? He didn’t think so, and Kathryn was more than capable of telling him about any infraction he might have made. She was battling something, though. She’d tell him in her own good time. Probably.

As he approached the cabin in the late afternoon, the object of his musings stood, hands on her hips, staring accusingly at the bean shoots in the vegetable plot.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Damn flies,” she grumbled. “I worried about the tomatoes attracting some sort of infestation, but turns out it’s these beans the insects on this planet find irresistible.”

“The insects that infected us?”

“No, these ones are much smaller and more prolific. Look.” She turned the leaf over to show a pulsing mass of tiny black-green insects covering the back.

“Can you replicate an insecticide?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to. I’d like something more sustainable and less likely to get into the food chain. I’m going to modify a sonic pulse and see if that annihilates them.”

With that declaration of war, Kathryn stomped back to the cabin.

Chakotay chuckled, and crouched down to address the unfortunate flies. “Don’t mess with Captain Janeway.”

“What was that?” she called over her shoulder.

Chakotay tugged his ear. “Nothing. While you’re doing that, I’ll cook.”

At dinner, Kathryn was oddly quiet. Brooding, almost.

His uneasy feeling intensified. “Did it work?”

“Did what work?”

“Annihilating our enemies.”

“For now. I’ll have to see if they come back.” She fell silent again, pushing her food around her plate.

“Not hungry?” He was again debating the wisdom of asking her what was on her mind when she set down her glass.

“I think we should take a trip. I’ve set up an irrigation system to take care of the plants for a couple of days.” She picked up a folded map and spread it across their small table. “I compiled this from the topographical scans _Voyager_ left us. We could camp on the lower slopes, here, and climb that mountain. While the weather is good.”

“Really?” He couldn’t hide his surprise. “I thought you didn’t like camping. You don’t want to wait until I have the boat finished?”

She shook her head. “I think we should go tomorrow.”

He laughed tightly. “Well, give me a minute to consult my schedule.”

She didn’t smile and her body seemed fraught with tension. He recognised that look. It was the same one she wore on _Voyager_ when she’d made a decision she hadn’t shared with him ahead of time, which lets face it, happened often.

“Kathryn? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It will be good to get away for a day or two.” She gazed into the distance, her eyes dark.

Just when he thought things were equalising between them, she decided this for them both without asking him. That was bad enough, but that she couldn't, or wouldn't share her burdens with him pierced his heart through. He wanted the softer, smiling Kathryn back. The one who had held his hand under the stars.

He stood up, trying to hide his hurt and anger. “All right, if that’s what you want. I’ll get the provisions sorted.” Maybe walking in the fresh air and time away from the cabin would do them both good.

#

They left early the next morning, both carrying packs and wearing stout Starfleet issue boots. She'd fastened her hair back into a tight bun, and this was the first time since they’d arrived she’d worn pants.

Kathryn set a punishing pace right from the start. Chakotay had no trouble matching her, and he suspected she’d tire before he did. She’d been at a work bench and planting seeds while he’d been felling and hauling trees, and his work site at the river was a good hour’s brisk walk every day. He’d even hiked further south and found a spot for a log cabin. He hadn’t told her, of course. One surprise project at a time.

They made good time to the spot they’d designated for base camp and pitched their tents.

“Do you want to explore around here and climb tomorrow?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Today. There’s time.”  

“All right.” He checked the zippers and secured the tents. “I guess we don’t have to worry about hikers stealing our gear.”

Kathryn resumed her brisk pace as they started up the slopes.

After three more hours solid walking in the heat he was surprised she wasn’t visibly tired. They had raced through the lower slopes barely stopping to notice the lush and varied plants, which he'd thought would interest her. Now the mountain was steeper and more rugged and the vegetation gave way to rocks and scree.

“Kathryn, we should take a break.”

“Worn you out already?” she said without slowing.

What was going on in her head? A redness to her face made him think that she wasn’t quite as comfortable as she made out. He offered her his canteen because she hadn't gotten her own out once.

She took a small sip and returned it to him. “I think we can make the crest before we stop, don't you?”

If they were with _Voyager_ , in the middle of a dangerous mission, he could understand her pushing herself to her limits. But what was driving her now? There were no lives at stake here.

“Why the rush?”

“It's an invigorating walk,” she said, and pressed on.

“Kathryn?” He shook his head and followed her.

When they did stop for lunch, Kathryn busied herself with scanning and plotting their return journey.

He passed her a fretata. She needed to eat something.

“Hmm, maybe later, thank you. But I'll have a—”

“—coffee?” He passed her a silver thermo-cup.

She looked up and smiled, her first of the day. “Thank you. I think we can afford to climb for another hour and still make it down before dark.”

He lay with his head against his pack, staring at the clear blue sky. In the distance a large bird circled. In fact, it was surprisingly big, it’s wingspan more akin to a shuttle craft. The bird circled twice more, and Chakotay wondered if it saw them and considered them a tasty snack. He was about to sit up and grab his phaser as a precaution, when it dipped out of view further up the mountain.

To the east lay swathes of green velvet forest, and the mountainside below rippled in the heat. The silence seemed endless after days of the chattering of the forest and the rush of the river.

They really were alone here. He closed his eyes. This was his life now, with a woman he adored who couldn't love him back, who let him hope and then pulled away from him. Just like she had on _Voyager_. It made his heart ache, but he couldn’t tell her; he would deal with his emotions alone. What choice did he have? She didn’t need guilt about his hurt feelings on top of whatever burdens she was carrying.

As they continued up the mountain, if anything, she increased the pace, and they reached the crest of a hill an hour after lunch. Kathryn scrambled quickly up a rocky outcrop. “The view from up here is amazing.”

Her eyes darted around. She seemed almost wired. If he didn't know better—for she’d only had one cup, he'd say she'd been drinking too much coffee.

The rocks didn't look all together stable either. “Kathryn, be careful,” he warned.

The top rock shifted. He jerked towards her, but she pitched sideways, falling from view. He raced around the outcrop, heart pounding.

She was already brushing herself off, standing at the edge of a steep slope. “Don't worry, I'm fine.”

As she spoke a scurry of loose stones moved under her feet. She lurched backwards. Before he could reach her, she began to slide.

“Kathryn!”

He shrugged his backpack off and scrambled after her down the scree-covered slope. At the bottom was a nest, bigger than anything he'd seen before, made from branches and wiry ferns. On the nest, the bird-creature he’d seen before, two meters tall with leather wings and a long, long beak, was screeching at Kathryn. She lay by its feet, fighting to keep her head clear of vicious claws.

Chakotay tried to grab her, but talons flew towards his face. He ducked and tried again. Kathryn had been flung beyond his reach, further into the nest.

He ran to the other side, desperately looking for a way in.

He drew his phaser. Maybe he could scare it long enough for Kathryn to get clear. He fired across its nose.  

No effect. It continued to stamp and screech fury at Kathryn.

He turned the phaser to a higher setting. The beast was large, so taking a chance that his shot would deliver little more than a sting he fired at its underbelly.

It roared and flapped upwards. Kathryn lay at the bottom of the nest among a clutch of eggs, dazed, hands protecting her head. As he dived in to haul her out, the creature pursued them, squawking and snapping furiously, but he got Kathryn clear. Supporting her with his arm, they stumbled back up the slope and hid at the other side of the rock formation.

“Damn thing!” he said, as the angry creature swooped perilously close to their heads.

Kathryn put a hand on his arm. “She was just protecting her young. I think she'll go back to her nest if we stay still.”

The bird circled twice more and then returned to her eggs.

Chakotay let out a sharp breath. “Damn it, Kathryn, you have to be more careful.”

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly, with no fight in her eyes at all. Her face was scratched, and her arms covered in bloody grazes, her clothes dirty, her hair tangled and wild.

“It's all right. Here, let me look at you. I packed a couple of medical hyposprays and the dermal regenerator.”  

He handed her his canteen of water while he dug out the equipment. She held it listlessly, barely drinking.

She sat stiffly, occasionally looking at the sky, as he treated her wounds. “I landed on one of her eggs. Destroyed it. No wonder she was angry at me. Any mother would be.”

“That wasn't your fault.”

Kathryn shook her head. She seemed far away. He worked in silence for a while, cleaning her cuts and abrasions, and healing her skin.

Then she turned to him. “Did you think you'd have children, one day?”

He paused, surprised at the abruptness of the question.  He didn’t really know how to respond. He shook his head, grasping for words that wouldn’t hurt too much. “I guess that's not an option for either of us anymore.”

Her eyes glistened, although she turned her face away from him, he could see her pain. “I thought Mark and I would have children. Not right away, but some day.”

His throat tightened. He wanted to make it better, but he didn’t know where to start. “We've both lost a great deal,” he said softly. There could be no children here. Neither of them would allay their loneliness by creating children doomed to live and die alone on this planet.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Then put her hand lightly on his shoulder. “Thank you. We better start back if we're going to make it to camp before nightfall.”

The journey down was much slower. Kathryn was clearly flagging now, finding it hard to place her feet on the rocky scree. That she hadn’t eaten properly didn’t help.

He slowed his pace. “Do you want to stop for something to eat and drink?”

“No. I’m all right. Let’s get back to camp.”

“At least take a sip, Kathryn. You haven’t drunk nearly enough in this heat.”

She sighed and took a swig. “You’re always looking out for me.”

“Someone has to,” he said gruffly.

“I am glad it’s you,” she said quietly, although she didn’t look him in the eyes.

Their tents were just as they’d left them, and he soon had a fire going. They opened ration packs together as dusk fell.

“In the next few weeks we’ll have tomatoes and those beans,” he said, making conversation.  “And maybe next year we could think about corn. I hope the replicator will last for years, but it would be sensible to start working on what we can do for ourselves. I could probably rig up a way to mill corn for flour.”

Kathryn didn’t reply right away. She pulled a bottle of Tauran brandy out of her bag, two glasses, and silently poured them both generous servings.

“Well. Here’s to the future, then.” There was a bitter edge to her voice that cut him.

She hardly touched her food, but filled her glass again before he’d halfway finished his.

He couldn’t fathom her. On the one hand he felt their connection and he was sure it was real, that she was drawn to him in the same way he was to her. Yet something was eating her up. It killed him that she wouldn’t share of her own volition, but couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“What’s bothering you, Kathryn?” he asked as she offered him another glass and refilled her own yet again.

She just shook her head, as if she was desperately holding onto Captain Janeway the Indestructible, the stoic leader, the woman able to solve all problems with wit and courage. Except, apparently, her own.

He sighed. “Maybe you should slow down with the brandy.”

“You’ve been telling me to drink all day. Now you’re telling me not to?” she rasped a brisk laugh, but there was little humour in the sound, or in her eyes.

He moved his head to one side, unsure of this strange darkness surrounding her. For the first time since they’d arrived here, probably for the first time since they’d met, he felt genuinely worried for her. She finished her glass and poured another.

He cleared her plate away in silence and then sat by the fire next to her.

Kathryn stared into the flames. “Why are you so good to me, Chakotay?”

He shook his head, bewildered at the question. “There’s just the two of us here. We have to take care of one another.”

She was silent for a long time before turning to him. “Do you know what the date is?”

He shrugged. Dates had meant little enough to him on Voyager, and even less on New Earth.

“I’ll tell you what day it is," she went on. "It should be my first wedding anniversary.” She raised her glass, swigged the last of her brandy, and then plonked the glass down. “Cheers.” Loss simmered and boiled beneath her skin, rising up like a toxic swirl of anger and pain.

“Oh, Kathryn. Is that what today has been about? Running away from your feelings?”

“I thought a challenge would make me forget. It did, at least a little. But,” she added drily, “apparently when you stop running feelings catch up.”

He moved to take the glass before she could refill it again and dig herself deeper into the dark pit she’d fallen into, but she stopped him. “What do you think of that, eh? Your woman warrior is neither brave, nor beautiful, nor wise. In fact, right now she may be a little drunk.”

“You can’t be wise all the time. You don’t have to be,” he said softly.

She looked at him sideways. “Are you telling me to be _un_ wise?”

He tried again to take the glass. As he leaned closer, she leaned in too, and before he knew what was happening, she kissed him. He froze. Her breath was sweet and her lips soft. He wanted her. God, he wanted _this_ , and for a moment he let himself believe it. He sunk his hands into her hair and kissed her back. She tasted of desire and everything he wanted. And brandy. _Brandy_.

He pulled back. Her eyes were filled with pain.

Chakotay took a breath. “Is this what you really want?”

“Right now, I can’t think of one damn reason not to,” she said, and pushed forward to kiss him again, roughly.

He eased her gently back to arm’s length, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say. “ _I_ can. You’re upset and vulnerable. Not to mention the effects of the brandy. Kiss me again when you’re sober and we’ll have a different conversation.”

She turned back to him, her eyes pleading. “I just want to forget, Chakotay.”

“That might work for tonight. Then we'd both have to deal with the consequences.” He was crawling inside his own skin, desperate to hold her and kiss her again, but to make love to her and have her pull away tomorrow in regret or shame would be the worst of all possible worlds. Much as he wanted her, and spirits knew he wanted her, he was damned if he was going to let it happen like this.

She jerked away from him, folding her arms across her chest. “Chakotay, I think I hate you right now.”

“No, you don't. I think you hate yourself.”

Kathryn’s eyes glistened. She swiped at them angrily and turned her face away.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but you’ll thank me in the morning.” He sighed, and forced the next words with a calm, reasoned tone he didn’t imagine until that moment he possessed. He gestured towards her tent, pitched next to his own. “Get some sleep, Kathryn. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Later, in his own tent,  quite alone, he listened to the night sounds of the mountain, and he fancied, once or twice, that he heard the soft sound of stifled tears. It was going to be a very long night. The longest since fate saw fit to strand him in the Delta Quadrant and lock him into this erratic, decaying orbit with Kathryn Janeway.


	5. Don't Say That Unless You Mean It.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn does some serious thinking after her ill-judged behaviour on the mountain. Will they find a way forward together, or will the barriers remain?

Chakotay slept in fits and starts, frustrated and alone in his tent. He had no doubt he’d done the right thing rejecting Kathryn’s ill thought out advances, protecting himself as much as her. To make love to her and then have her wake with a sore head and regrets would be the most painful thing he could imagine. No doubt she’d redefine the parameters of their relationship in the morning. They would be back where they damn well started, and he’d have to squash down his misery. He woke with a heavy heart.

Kathryn was up before him, preparing breakfast. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I need to apologise. For yesterday. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said, a little more harshly than he’d intended. She looked up, her eyes full of pain that he just couldn’t stand to see. His annoyance dissolved, and he smiled gently. “But I forgive you.”

“I need to stop doing things you have to forgive me for. I'm very sorry. For everything.”

He kept smiling, as much to hide his sadness as to put her at ease. “How’s the head?”

“As painful as I deserve. Here.” She passed him a plate of scrambled pekkanini eggs.

He raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

She gave a small, hollow laugh. “Eat up, Commander.”

And with that, he realised, they were back between their defined parameters, and the barriers between them felt more insurmountable than ever.

#

They broke camp slowly, and hiked home at a much slower pace. By the afternoon Kathryn’s headache had receded, but her guilt hadn’t.

The forest was full of scents and noises that she’d barely noticed on their way out. What a difference a day made. They saw the primate that they had sighted before by their cabin, or one just like it. She managed to scan it for her catalogue. They took a detour to the river, though Chakotay steered her away from the boat, unwilling to reveal his work until it was finished. He seemed to relax as the day went on, and she thought—hoped—her reprehensible behaviour last night hadn’t done them too much damage. He was too kind to let on if he was angry at her. He had every right to be furious, yet he forgave her. There was something deeply touching about that. 

Kathryn sat on a rock in the sunshine, letting her hand float in the warm water. “This really is a beautiful place.”

“If we had to be stranded, we could have done a lot worse.” He was gazing at the trees, as if sizing one up for his next project. He really was building a life for them, and there she was, creating tension between them.  

“I know. I _can_ see the good in it.” She smiled at him, willing him to understand how sorry she was for hurting him with her thoughtless actions. She desperately wanted to put things right. She just wasn’t sure how, not without digging them both deeper into the mess she’d made. She was sure of one thing, though; he deserved better than she had been giving him lately.

They reached the cabin in the late afternoon. Seeing its familiar outline brought an unexpected flush of happiness to her chest. “I’m glad we’re home. It might sound silly, but I missed my little plants.”

He stopped walking. “That’s the first time you’ve called this place home.”

Kathryn paused, turned back, and this time she did look him in the eye. “Well,” she said softly, “someone very wise told me we shouldn’t sacrifice the present for a future that might never happen.” It seemed obvious, now that she said it aloud.

He smiled, a little uncertainly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her words. “Why don’t you take a bath while I prepare dinner?”

She watched him disappear into the lodge, with his awkward deflection ringing in her ears and the blurred recollection of a kiss tingling on her lips.

In the tub, Kathryn forced her muscles to relax and let her mind wander. What circuitous path had led them here? She couldn't imagine another path now. Every little choice seemed to have led them to this moment. The mission to capture the Maquis. The destruction of the _Val Jean_. Her decision to destroy the array to save the Ocompa. Then to do what everyone least expected and make Chakotay her second in command. There had been something compelling about him right from the start, drawing her in, pushing her to take a gamble on trusting him, risking a battle of wills between them that never really developed. Not in the way she initially feared, anyway.

He’d slipped back into the Starfleet role relatively easily. Once he decided on a course of action, the angry warrior, it seemed, was steadfast. And although they had clearly _noticed_ each other, he never pushed his feelings on her, even if he never managed to completely hide them. She’d imagined his adherence to protocols had sprung from not wanting to repeat the hurt he’d experienced at Seska’s hands.

She wasn’t blind to who he was, or how he looked, or how the female members of the crew had reacted to him. She was pretty sure he could have had his pick, if he’d wanted to. But he hadn’t. He walked by her side, and she was only now starting to understand what that truly meant.

_Kiss me again when you’re sober and we’ll have a different conversation._

He wanted her. There was no room for doubt now, if there had been any before. How much longer could she keep denying that she wanted him too?

Of all the people on _Voyager_ she and Chakotay had become infected with this virus. What kind of virus only killed you once you left the planet of its origin, anyway? She shook her head. You couldn’t make it up. If she believed in divine plans or even fate, she might start to think they were destined to end up here together. But she didn’t believe in those things. She lived her life according to science and reason. She had to actively choose her path. It came down to this: would Mark really expect her not to live her life? She already knew the answer: he would no more hold her to a life alone than she would him. They both cared enough to want the other happy.

She ducked her head under the water and let her hair float free, as if she could shake out her doubts and indecision.

“Dinner in ten minutes,” Chakotay called as she surfaced.

“I’ll be right in.” Kathryn quickly washed her hair, got out of the bath and headed to her room to dress for dinner.

As she passed Chakotay he glanced up. “Shall we eat outside?”

“That would be nice. I’ll get dressed and set the table.” She succumbed to another twinge of guilt; she’d behaved appallingly, yet here he was cooking her dinner, not holding a grudge, always making things easy for her.

She hurried to her room. Her eyes fell on the four pips lined up with military precision on her cabinet. Were they mocking her now? Making her hold onto things long lost while she missed out on the good right in front of her? She cradled the symbols of command in the palm of her hand.

“Well, Captain Janeway,” she whispered, as she opened the carved box Chakotay had given her and let the pips tumble one by one from her palm into the red velvet. She snapped the lid shut and took a sharp breath. “It’s time to find Kathryn.”

#

Kathryn set out the small table under the stars, humming quietly to herself, delicious anticipation buzzing in her chest as Chakotay served their meal.

“Do you want a drink?” he called from inside.

“I think I'll give the Tauran brandy a miss, tonight.”

As they ate, the warm evening air dissolved the tensions of the last two days. “It really is good to be home,” she said, shifting her chair closer to his for a better view of the glittering vista above. There was something hypnotic about the sounds of the forest and the violet glow flickering at the edge of the tree line, and the pounding of her heart as she sat close to him.

“Kathryn, look.” A swarm of luminous insects took flight and twisted in a winding column among the trees, painting the black sky with swirling eddies of violet light.

“Incredible.” She watched him in rapt wonder as he followed the display. It suddenly struck her in a moment of perfect clarity. _He_ was the most incredible thing on this planet. She was a fool not to see it sooner. She took his hand. He glanced over, his eyes aglow with luminescence, his smile broad and true. He took her breath away.

Her heart raced with words she was afraid to say, yet wanted to say so very much. She faltered.

“What is it?” he gently asked.

She took a sharp intake of breath. Her voice was hoarse. “I think I'd like to kiss you.”

He turned to fully face her. “Please don’t say that unless you mean it.”

Kathryn stood up, moving in front of him “I hate that I’ve made you feel like this.” She tugged his hand until he stood too. “You’ve been so patient. Kind.” She stared intently at his face and said clearly, “I want to kiss you again; if that’s something you want, too.”

“Very much,” he whispered.

She reached up and kissed him. Slowly this time, deliberately. Nothing like their first kiss on the mountain. This was gentle and elegant, soft and reaching, like a whisper of wind in the moonlight.

Chakotay enveloped her with his arms and held her tight, as if he couldn’t stand a micron of distance between them a moment longer. His body was firm against hers. His palms moved to her hips, and then her back, and she was pressed so close to him it took her breath away. Her body tingled as he kissed her again, more deeply this time, exploring her mouth with his tongue, sending heat to her core. She wanted more of him. All of him.

She took his hand, threading her fingers through his. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go inside.” He let her guide him indoors, through their living area and to her bedroom.

As they paused beside her bed, she looked up at him, her heart racing. She wanted this more than anything. She wanted _him._

She slipped his vest off his shoulders, and unbuttoned his tunic. His shirt fell to the floor. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the muscles she'd watched in the forest. He felt every bit as good as she'd imagined. 

His kiss became more urgent as she touched his bare skin, running her fingers across his chest, over his shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his arms.

He clutched the fabric of her dress, pulling her deeper into a crushing kiss. She felt his fingertips fumbling for the zipper.

“I’m a little out of practice.”

She turned around. He moved her hair aside and kissed her neck, before he slowly undid the zipper and let the dress pool at her feet. He unhooked her bra and slid the straps from her shoulder.

“Let me see you,” he whispered.

She turned around.

His eyes feasted on her, lingering on her breasts, her belly. His gaze on her body made her tremble.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered, but he hesitated, almost afraid to touch her.

She took his hand and raised it to her breast. He squeezed her lightly, and when she gasped her encouragement he cupped her firmly, letting his thumb rub her hard nipple.

She released his belt buckle, and eased his pants over his hips. “Hmmm, these need to go.”

With an impatient growl he removed his garments and was proudly, gloriously naked before her. She reached for him, eager to touch his hard length, but he eluded her and instead eased her onto the bed, raking his fingers across her ribs, and the hollow of her hips, and hitched the last piece of fabric that remained between them down over her hips.

She had no more words, just sensations. Layers of duty unravelling. The universe turning on a pinhead as they lay together, nude, kissing and kissing and kissing. His lips and hands on her bare skin drove her wild. She soared as his fingers explored her folds, teasing and stroking her, delving inside her, and then following that same path with his tongue. He licked her slowly, delicately, teasing and sucking her until she was breathless, groaning, and the orgasm coiling in her belly was rippling through her in ecstatic waves. He looked up at her and grinned wolfishly, evidently satisfied by her incoherent state.

He kissed his way back up her body. When she touched him for the first time he gasped. “Kathryn,” he warned, “It's been a while.”

She lightened her touch. “For me, as well. More than two years.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if they were not the only two people on this planet. Her body felt hot and needy, even in the afterglow of her first orgasm, and she wanted him more than she could remember wanting anyone. “I can’t go another two minutes without you inside me.” She pulled him to her, guiding him inside her. They both gasped as they adjusted. The new sensations were exquisite.

She groaned deeply as he moved. He sealed her mouth with a rough kiss as she writhed beneath him, rising to his thrusts, finally stepping into that future he’d told her about, until they became more than they were and everything they could be. All they had on this lonely planet was each other. They would make it more than enough.

She dug her nails into his back as she felt a fluttering build inside her. She knew he was close, too. “Don't hold back.”

He was beyond holding back and so was she. She called out, and shuddered around him as he spilled into her. She held him through it. He looked beautiful, undone. Vulnerable. A tear trickle down her face.

“Please don't cry, Kathryn.” He sounded a little horrified, as if he was afraid he’d hurt her or gone too far.

“These are good tears,” she assured him, holding closer, burying her face in his neck, overcome by emotions so powerful she didn’t think she’d survive them. “Finally, good, good tears, I promise.” 

They lay side by side, finally facing each other on the small bed. He wiped her tears away with his thumb.

“I don’t know why I waited so long,” she said. “You must think I’m a fool.”

“Of course I don’t. But…you’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

“Certainly not. First thing tomorrow we’re removing that partition and pushing our beds together.”

He laughed, holding her in his arms and in his heart, as if he would never let go. “Agreed. Together, now. Always.”


	6. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay and Kathryn enjoy their new relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think they deserve some care-free sexy times, don't you??!

It was another hot day, and as Chakotay worked on the boat, thoughts of Kathryn were never far from his mind. The first few days after they had made love he’d found himself constantly anxious—despite her fervent reassurances—that she’d change her mind. But as the days had turned to a week, then two, he’d relaxed, because her warmth didn’t waver, and her eagerness to explore this new side of their relationship was everything he’d ever hoped for.

On this day, he wandered home early to find Kathryn harvesting tomatoes. Her hair was long and loose, she wore a simple blue dress, and she was beautiful.

“Look at these.” She took a perfect red sphere in her hand. “We need to preserve them so we can enjoy them through the winter.”

“I'll make a large batch of soup. We can put portions in stasis,” he said, much more interested in feasting his eyes on her than on the tomatoes.

“Sounds delicious.”

“You know what else is delicious?” he said, taking the tomatoes and setting them on the table in their outside eating area. Standing behind her, he slipped his hands around her waist. “You.” He swooped in to kiss her neck, wondering how he had survived so long without touching her.

“Hmm, that kind of talk will get you in trouble.”

“I hope so,” he said into her ear.

She turned in his arms, and grinning wickedly, pushed him backwards until he was sitting in a chair.

To his delight and surprise, she worked his belt loose.

“Kathryn,” he murmured. “Out here?”

She smiled up at him as she freed him and stroked him to hardness. “I don't think the neighbours will mind.”

“If it pleases you, then who am I to argue?” he said, catching his breath.

She looked down at him hungrily. “This pleases me very much.”

The throaty rasp in her voice sent a shiver through him. In the next moment she took him in her mouth.

Her mouth, her lips, her tongue, were heaven. He tried to breathe through the sensations, exercise some restraint so he wouldn't just explode. She glanced up at him occasionally, meeting his eyes with the look of a predator. He dug his fingernails into the arm of the chair to avoid thrusting and basically pillaging her mouth. What was the cultural etiquette for a first time blow job? It certainly wasn't good manners to come in his lover’s mouth without warning, but he was dangerously close.

“Kathryn…” he choked out.

She glanced up at him, eyebrow raised. She didn't stop, though.

Watching her drove him wild. He felt his balls boiling, his breath snatching. Sheer erotic pleasure overwhelmed him. “I'm going to come,” he managed to gasp.

She was relentless, taking him deep into her mouth, sucking hard and harder, applying herself to this task as she did everything else. Diligently.

It felt like death. It felt like life. He closed his eyes and was lost, lost, lost shuddering into her mouth.

He opened his eyes to see her self-satisfied smile as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

He made a hopeless groaning noise. Then he tidied himself up and pulled her gently into his lap. She settled against his chest.

“l’ll get you back,” he whispered in her ear.

“I'm counting on it.”

#

The next day, Kathryn tried to study the climate data and planting schedule she’d devised, while Chakotay was doing a fine job of distracting her, rubbing her shoulders, easing away the tension of the morning’s work. He leaned in and said close to her ear, “Feel like a hike to the redwood? We could take a picnic.”

It still felt a little strange that there were no pressing tasks to complete, no one to protect, no one to please but themselves. Maybe it always would. But she was free to say yes. She turned around in his arms. “Excellent idea. I could do with a break.”

The forest was in full bloom now; the air filled with the drifting scent of vanilla and traces of honey, the bushes in the undergrowth dripping with flowers. When they reached the redwood Chakotay laid down a blanket on the moss in the tree’s shade and set their basket on it.

“You think of everything,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow, slipped his arms around her and eased her towards the wide tree trunk, until her back was pressed against the bark.

“Ever wondered what it would be like to make love in the forest?” he whispered into her ear.

“Well I am now,” she said, tugging playfully on his shirt collar. “Is that why you invited me here? To satisfy your curiosity?”

With one hand on the tree’s trunk, and the other at her waist, he kissed her. The tree seemed to respond, sending a decadent tingle through her spine.

She gasped. “Do you feel that?”

“Ah ha.” He was engrossed in her neck, kissing her collarbone in a most delightful way. “The heart of the forest.”

If the kiss felt decadent, when he hitched up her skirt Kathryn felt shameless, but couldn’t bring herself to care one bit. This was their world, their paradise, and they could live in it any damn way they chose. If they wanted to make love gainst a tree, who would stop them?

He sunk to his knees and removed her panties, growling as he fought to get them past her shoes. Then he made good on his threat to repay yesterday’s gift with his tongue. She moaned as he teased her folds. Out here, they need hold nothing back, so she used her voice with abandon. It energised him. He moved her leg onto his shoulder, and the vibrations from the tree rose in pitch, the tree’s song lifting them both higher and higher.

He eased her through an orgasm and then stood up. His erection pressed hard to her belly. “Are you comfortable, or do you want to lay down?”

“I don’t want to move.” She lost no time in undoing his belt.

He raised her leg and curled it around him as he pressed inside her. The tree seemed to pulse with them, beating in time with their hearts as he moved inside her, raising them higher than they’d ever been before. Kathryn held onto him tightly until they both crashed over the edge into bliss.

“Are you all right?” he asked, still pressed inside her.

“My back might be a bit grazed, but it was worth it,”

They untangled themselves from each other, and settled on the blanket.

“I think I might just lay here and go to sleep,” Kathryn whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. Free from duty and able to give in to the whims of passion. It feels like a gift.”

“A gift from the sex gods?” He chuckled, and folded her into his arms, his eyes closed.

She lay her head on his chest. She’d never felt so relaxed, so happy, in her whole life under the warm sun, in their own private paradise. “It’s not just sex, Chakotay, although the sex is incredible… I love you.” She said the last words drowsily, and felt his soft sigh, although he didn’t reply straight away. Perhaps they both drifted off to sleep, as the next thing she knew he was nudging her awake as warm rain spattered on her face. They ran home, laughing in the downpour.

It was later, in the heat and the dark in their own bed, as he pushed gently inside her for the second time that day, when he whispered the words back to her.

“I love you too, Kathryn.”

#

When the evenings were cooler, they would sit together on the small sofa inside their cabin. Chakotay settled by Kathryn’s side, glancing at the text on her PADD.

“What are you reading. More climate data?”

“No. It’s fiction, actually. We picked up a whole lot of works in a cultural exchange on one of the colonies we visited in the first few months in the Delta Quadrant. It’s a beautiful story.”

“Oh? What’s it called?”

“Searider Falcon.” She put the PADD down. “I’m actually reading it rather slowly. I don’t want it to end.”

Chakotay smiled at that. “We have plenty of time.”

She put the PADD down. “Life is so different here. I feel… so free. To be who I want. To ask for what I want.”

He raised an eyebrow, and leaned in with a cheeky smile and his hand on her knee. “And what _do_ you want?”

She gave him a mock glare, and said in a husky voice, “Right now, I want to read. I’ll tell you what I want later, later.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.” He settled beside her and picked up his own PADD.  

#

Early one morning, some weeks later, he guided her out of the forest and down to the river bank, with a scarf over her eyes. She'd raised an eyebrow at his request to cover her eyes, but she’d consented without question. She had never willingly let a man blindfold her before, although during her time in Starfleet she'd had a sack or two thrown over her head. This was nothing like that, of course. She trusted Chakotay implicitly. It even felt a little erotic, with his solid body pressed close to her back in the warm sun, and the heady scent of the forest flowers in her lungs. As they walked the chattering and rustling of the forest was soon replaced by the sounds of the river.

His hands rested on her shoulders, bringing her to a halt. He spoke softly into her ear. “Ready, Captain?”

“Ah ha,” she affirmed, her heart dancing a little.

He took the scarf away.

On the bank of a river bluer than she'd ever seen outside a holodeck, sat a small sailing boat. The boat was made of fine wood, milled and varnished to an amber glow. A vessel built by a craftsman's hand. Inside, there was room to stow gear and two seats with backs, one in front of the other, for this little boat had been designed with comfort in mind. Kathryn ran her hand along the rim from the stern to tip. She stopped at the curve of the bow. He’d carved a name into the hull and carefully stained the letters white.

Her heart flipped, and she brought her hands to her chest as a reflex.

_Voyager_

Perhaps knowing that this gesture might overwhelm her, he stepped close beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“I can't give you your ship back, or even the freedom to leave this planet. But I promise I'll give you everything that's in my power to give.”

She turned to him, met his dark eyes. “You already do.” Her voice cracked a little as she spoke, not with melancholy, but with an emotion she could barely name, so fierce and deep it almost knocked her breath away. “I'd say I'm the luckiest woman on this planet, but that wouldn't mean much.”

He smiled. “It means something to me.” He tipped her chin and kissed her softly. Then he took a step back. “So, what do you say? Shall we get this boat in the water and see if she floats?”

_Voyager_ took them deep into the wilderness. The river stretched for miles through swathes of forest; under a sky so blue it seemed to Kathryn it must have been painted by the hand of a goddess. She laughed a little at the thought. When did she start ascribing the refraction of coloured light to supernatural beings?

There was a grassy bank ahead. “Shall we stop here and eat?” Chakotay asked.

“You brought a picnic?”

He pointed to a cool box built in under the stern. “Packed it up and brought it here this morning before you were awake.”

After they ate, Kathryn lay back on the blanket he'd brought and stared up at the cloudless sky. “You really are too good to me, Chakotay.”

He propped himself up on his elbow beside her, watching her face. “I like taking care of you. Now that you finally let me.”

She turned her face towards him. “I like it too. Somehow _Voyager_ seems more and more like a dream.” She took his hand. “I can't imagine being here with anyone but you.”

“Ah, so if you'd been stranded here with Tom or Harry it wouldn't be the same?”

Kathryn laughed. “Are you asking me if I’d be sleeping with Tom or Harry? No, never. Nobody but you.”

He chuckled, and she knew that her answer pleased him, even if he tried to pretend he had little ego to bruise. He leaned in and kissed her gently.

Then his face became serious. “Would we have this, if we'd stayed on  _Voyager_?”

Kathryn’s heart dropped in her chest. “Honestly? I don’t think I’d ever have stepped past those boundaries.”

His smile slipped into sadness. “You sound quite sure of that.”

“We had a job to do that was bigger than both of us. Get the crew home. It had to come first.”

He looked away.

She hated that she made him feel rejected, as illogical as it was for him to feel that way. It was academic now, anyway. The real _Voyager_ was long since gone.

“It was a different life,” she said.

“We're the same people. Just in a different relationship.”

“Maybe. I have to say, I like the sex in this one.”

He grinned. “I can’t disagree with that.”

“All right, what if we’d never been stranded here? Say I'd gotten us all the way home, and you'd been answering my commands for years. Would we even still be friends?”

“I'd still love you, Kathryn, no matter how long I had to wait.”

She looked at him sideways. “Still? You loved me back then, on _Voyager_?”

He laughed. “I've loved you from the first moment I saw you.”

“What?” she scoffed. “When I was trying to capture you?”

“Well, maybe not from the very first moment. But very soon after.”

Kathryn scoffed. “Flatterer.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “Is it working?”

“Kiss me again, and I'll let you know.”


	7. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay love each other one final time before they are forced to find a way to leave their life on New Earth behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment we have all been dreading finally arrives!

It was dusk by the time Kathryn and Chakotay returned home from their day on the river. Chakotay took a quick shower while Kathryn bathed. By the time she stepped inside their cabin, he’d prepared a simple meal.

She kissed his cheek. “So, boat builder, pathfinder, chef. _Spectacular_ lover. Anything you can't do?”

“I'm a terrible dancer.”

They sat down to eat, Kathryn smiling at the thought of Chakotay tripping over his feet. “Oh, we should have had dances. Back on _Voyager_. I could have taught you.”

He chuckled softly. 

After they had cleared away from their meal, Kathryn found a tune on their audio system. “I was serious about dancing. It's never too late to learn.” She offered her hand, which he took with a gracious smile.

The music wasn't anything Kathryn knew, but the rhythm carried her feet, and she found herself twirling into his arms and back out to his fingertips before swinging around again. There wasn’t much room in their little living space, but they danced until they were almost breathless.

“You were hustling me. You can dance,” she chided.

He drew her closer into his arms, his eyes shining. “Maybe I just needed the right partner.”

Kathryn laughed with the freedom, the sheer joy of it all. Who would have guessed their prison could become paradise? She revelled in his embrace, gazing into his eyes, breathing hard. “The perfect end to a perfect day,” she said softly.

He kissed her gently.

“What’s that?” Chakotay asked, putting his head on one side, trying to hear a sound above the music.

“I don't know.”

He frowned and went to the shelf. There, covered in dust, were their comms badges.

A distant voice cracked. “Voyager to Captain Janeway. Please respond.”

Kathryn felt her world darken and shift. Tuvok. Impossibly. _Voyager_.

They both sat down, and stared at the badges. Chakotay pushed her badge across the table towards her, his hands trembling.

She tried to slow her breathing. “This is Janeway.”

“Captain. We have found a cure for the disease. We will be in transporter range in thirty hours. Are you and Commander Chakotay well?”

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay before she answered. He seemed frozen, his jaw just a little open.

“We’re… fine, Tuvok. _Voyager_?”

“The ship and crew are running at optimal efficiency. We look forward to welcoming you back aboard.”

“See you in thirty hours. Janeway out.” Kathryn shook her head. She had questions. So many. What had they risked to find the cure after all these months?

Abruptly, Chakotay stood up. “I don't believe it.”

She barely heard him. “We're going home,” she said, straightening her back.

“No. We're _leaving_ home.” He paced the floor where they had danced only moments before, more agitated than she'd ever seen him. His eyes blazed.

The sight of the angry warrior almost broke her. His furious expression told her he already knew what would come next. There was no way to make this easy on either of them.

Her throat tightened, and her heart ached. She was in hell. “Chakotay, please. We have to work this out.”

“Work what out, Kathryn?”

Her voice was a tortured whisper. “How we are going to… stop.”

He shook his head. “You might as well ask my heart to stop beating.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Her voice was hoarse. “You know what it's like aboard a starship. We’ll be different people. We’ll have to be.”

He took a deep breath. “I know. But I hate it.” He couldn't look at her. She saw the war in him. The desolation in his heart matched her own.

“Chakotay.” She reached out to him, needing his comfort and support, but he pulled away, as if he didn't trust himself to touch her. He walked out of the cabin without looking back.

Kathryn put her head in her hands and let her tears fall.

#

Chakotay fled through the forest, with no real sense where he was headed. All he knew was he couldn't bear to look at Kathryn right now. He didn't want her to see him out of control like this, either. It felt like the sky was falling. _They think they’re saving us,_ _when they’re actually tearing my heart out and expecting me to be glad._

He walked to the boat with fire in his heart. How could the universe be so cruel, to let him taste paradise and then plunge him into hell?

Their little  _Voyager_ was on the riverbank where he and Kathryn had left it a few hours before. He yanked one of the hammers from the tool box he'd stowed on the boat and lunged at the stern, splitting the hull with a furious crack. The world became redness and heat, his blood boiling, his head screaming. In the darkness he ripped plank after plank from the boat. He felt his skin tear, but he didn't stop, even when his hands were blood soaked and raw. Piece by piece he tore the boat apart.

Eventually, spent and weeping, he sunk to the ground.

He didn't know how long he sat in the darkness, panting. It felt like eternity. How much time had passed?

The sky paled in the distance. Kathryn would be worried.

Kathryn.

He'd left her alone to deal with this. The thought drove him to his feet. He'd sworn to walk by her side, always. What kind of man left the woman he loved to carry their burdens alone?

#

Kathryn sat staring at the door long after Chakotay left. Pain had radiated off him. She shook her head bitterly. What cruel fate threw them together and then tore them apart? Was she destined always to be dislocated from people she loved? But this would be harder than losing Mark. Chakotay would be beside her every day, but she couldn't have him. Not and command _Voyager_ with him. Starfleet protocols were in place for a good reason. She had to retain her objectivity. Be prepared to send her first officer on any mission—no matter how dangerous—that the operational situation demanded. He needed to be able to check and challenge her unencumbered by a romantic relationship. The crew needed some one to turn to if they felt they couldn’t go to her. Duty, duty, duty. The list of reasons why this couldn’t work went on and on. Kathryn’s heart broke a thousand times, but she still came back to the same conclusion. They had to stop.  

An hour, then two passed. Where was he? Was he upset enough to do something stupid? She dismissed the thought almost instantly. He wasn't a fool. But she could hardly bear the thought of him hurting alone. Three times she almost went out to search for him, but each time she poured herself another coffee instead. She had to respect that he needed space to process this in his own way.

It was almost dawn when he returned. As the door opened the first forest bird called in the morning. Chakotay’s eyes were black, his hands bleeding.

“Chakotay.” She stood as he came in, her heart pounding at the sight of his blood. “What happened? Please, let me see.”

He sat quietly as she gently cleaned his wounds, washing away the blood and cleansing his ragged skin. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I don't want to make this any harder than it already is. I just hate the thought of losing you. Losing us.”

She choked back platitudes that she couldn’t bring herself to utter. _We won’t lose each other. We’ll still be friends._ It sounded hollow even in her head. There were no words that would make it better. She didn't even have it in her to try.

“I know,” she said. “It's cruel.”

His eyes shone with unshed tears.

With her hand on his shoulder, she said, “I don't want our last memory of this place to be of us fighting. I don't think I could stand it.”

“Me either. I won't try to change your mind, as much as I want to.” He sighed. “You’re tired. I'll sleep out here. You get some rest.”

Chakotay stood, moving away from her and towards the small sofa they had shared on so many contented evenings. It would be a terrible place for a man his size to sleep, and yet he would do so without complaining.

She watched him step away and couldn't bear it. “We have tonight,” she said softly. “Tomorrow we'll have to put on our uniforms. But tonight…”

He stopped, and then turned back.

She took a step towards him. “Let's be together one last time. While we can.” She reached up and kissed him so lightly their lips barely touched.

He breathed her name, and brought his hand to her face. “You are beautiful, and brave, and wise.”

She shook her head slightly. “That's _you_.”

Kathryn undressed in a dream state, reality folding and unfolding around her. She'd held on to Captain Janeway for so long. Now she'd found peace in Chakotay’s arms, discovered things she’d never let herself explore, and it was all to be stolen from her.

She lay down beside him, her heart fragile as glass. How could she possibly let him go? She reached out to him.

He touched her face. “Is this going to make things easier or harder?”

“Honestly, I don't know. But right now I don't care. Do you?”

In answer he kissed her. His touch was so gentle it made her heart ache. He kissed her neck, taking slow, sweet time to explore the dip of her throat, to work lower and kiss her breasts. He kissed her belly, and she gasped as he settled himself between her legs to kiss the insides of her thighs almost reverently. He knew her body so well now, how to touch her, what she liked.

He teased her folds with his tongue. Heat shot through her. He gently eased first one finger, and then two inside her, all the time licking and sucking her until she was wild and on the edge. He didn't stop, edging her into an orgasm that, when it came, ripped through her like a tidal wave. She cried out, her breath stolen and ragged, her back arching into him. He stayed with her for an aftershock until she whined with over-sensitivity.

“Chakotay.” She managed his name, somehow. “Come here.” He kissed her thighs again, and then her belly, and worked his way up with maddening slowness, stopping to kiss and suck each breast on his way. A master craftsman at work. Now she wanted him. In her. On her. Pinning her beneath him, and thrusting until he unravelled in the same way she’d just come undone, but she also wanted this to last forever.

She eased herself from under him. “Lay back,” she whispered, and began her own exploration of his body. His firm chest muscles golden and taut with the physical work under New Earth’s sun, his belly flat. She admired him, unashamed, running her hand lower, kissing his belly, his thighs, nuzzling into him with teasing licks, never taking him into her mouth.

“Please,” he groaned when he couldn’t stand it any longer.

She looked up at him across his body, and then fully took him into her mouth, sucking him hard. She worked to bring him as close to the edge as she dared.

His face contorted. “Kathryn, stop. I don’t want to end this way.”

“Nor do I.” She caught her breath, moved up and kissed him.

He sat up and caught her in his arms, flipped her around and pressed her down, covering her with his body, skin against skin. “Like this. I want to remember you like this,” he said.

She helped him ease inside her. He paused to let her adjust, to catch her breath, and then he kissed her hard. Nothing else mattered. Just their bodies moving together, and the sound of their ragged breathing and of her pleasure as she rolled into bliss again, fluttering and pulsing, head thrown back as he brought her to orgasm, rising and rising until he was lost too, thundering towards his own climax. She held him through it as his body went taut, wrapping her arms around him so tightly it felt like they were alone the universe. His eyes were still closed. He buried his face in her neck.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He let out a long breath, and then moved back onto the bed alongside her.

As her breathing slowed, she turned on her side to look at him. She wanted to tell him how desperately she loved him, she needed to say the words so strongly it hurt. “Loving you has been beautiful. Incredible. I’ll never be sorry we found each other. I’m only sorry it has to end.”

“Me too.” He almost smiled, but there was a world of pain in his eyes. It hurt her to see it. Instead, she pulled his palms to her belly and snuggled her back into him, her spine fitting neatly into the curve of his chest. The gentle strength of him close behind her a cruel comfort, but it was safer this way, if neither could see the other.

He folded his arms around her, held her close, and she felt him sigh into her neck. She let her tears silently spill, careful to regulate her breath so he wouldn't notice.

Beyond their cabin forest birds sang, ushering in the last morning of their life here, letting her know that although the love they found here must end, this paradise would go on without them. Kathryn’s final thought, before a raw, exhausted sleep stole her, was that life here would have been a very good life indeed.

#

When Chakotay woke, Kathryn was already outside. He heard the shuttle’s engines power up, roar, and then fall silent.

He remained in bed, his palm flat on the space where she used to lie. How many mornings had he woken beside her now? And now he never would again. With a sinking feeling, he rose and opened the small wardrobe space they shared. Her uniform was gone. He sat down heavily on the bed with his own colours in his hands. Clearly she hadn't changed her mind. He hadn't really thought she would. He’d hoped, though.

So, this was the way things had to be.

In time maybe this gaping hole in his heart would heal. Until then he would find a way to bear it. He’d do it for her. For their crew. He stood up. It was time to find Commander Chakotay again.

Once dressed, the very first thing he did was separate their beds. It wouldn't do for crew beam up their belongings and find _that_.

He saw no evidence that Kathryn had eaten breakfast, which didn't surprise him at all, and a half-drunk cup of coffee, which did. He stuck his head out of the door. She’d already begun piling boxes and gear in front of the cabin.

“Kathryn,” he called, “I'm fixing breakfast.”

“I'll be right there.” Her voice came from inside the shuttle.  

He didn't wait for her to emerge, but ducked back inside to cook eggs. If he delayed seeing her, he could imagine for a few minutes longer that she'd walk through the door in her blue dress, with her hair long and free.  

“Thankfully, the shuttle is in good working order,” she said, wiping her hands as she came in. “We'd gotten slack. I ran a diagnostic on it every week when we first arrived.”

“I guess the chances of us leaving got more remote as time went by. Checking the shuttle didn't seem so important.”

He turned, to see her staring at him, her eyes on his uniform, flicking up to his Maquis command pip, pinned carefully on his turtleneck.

Her hair was neatly curled into a bun, but she hadn't put on her captain’s pips yet.

They stared at one another, trapped in amber, neither of them speaking or moving in case they shattered something precious. Her eyes were sadder than he'd ever seen them.

He couldn't stand it. He turned back to the counter and handed her the plate of eggs.

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely.

“Do you want another coffee?”

“No, thank you. I think I’ll take tea.”

They ate in silence, until the silence became so loud it hurt his ears. All the time she sat upright, her body stiff, pushing her food around her plate, as if she had no idea how to take command of the situation.

He forced himself to smile gently at her, and find words that would help, not hurt them both. “Kathryn, it will be all right.”

She relaxed a little, as if she thought if he could survive this then maybe she could too, but still her voice was quieter than usual. “We have six hours until _Voyager_ reaches orbit. Maybe we should transplant some of the vegetables into containers, so we can transfer them to the hydroponics bay. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a good idea. I’m sure Neelix will appreciate it.”

She looked up at him. “Will you help?”

“Of course.”

She smiled, and he shored up his heart with steel.

#

Kathryn walked into the bedroom to collect her pips from the carved box at her bedside. He’d wisely separated their bed. The sheets were folded into a neat pile, the headboard gone. She sat for a moment, perched on the very edge of the mattress.

She picked up the box he’d made her. The image in the redwood still intrigued her, took her back to a sunny afternoon in the shade of that tree, when it seemed nothing could come between them. He’d spent hours on this box. The lid fit snugly in her hand, the redwood inlaid with the carving of the tree he’d called the heart of the forest, two vines winding up the trunk. Hardly subtle, but then their lives here since the mountain had not been subtle. They had been passionate and free. She hadn't been merely stroking his ego when she'd told him he was a spectacular lover, but she would miss much more than the sex. The freedom. The quiet moments. Discussing the books they were reading. Shared meals. Watching the sunset over luminous forests sharing a glass of Tauran brandy.

Inside the box, her pips sat, dull gold against the red velvet lining. Her fingers trembled as she took the pips and raised them to her neck. Standing in front of the mirror, she tried to pin one on her collar. It wasn't easy with shaking hands and it tumbled to the floor.

She felt him behind her before she saw him in the mirror, retrieving the errant pip.

“Here, let me help you.” He leaned over her shoulder, brought his other arm around her neck, and skilfully pinned each of those small symbols of command to her collar. Then he respectfully stepped back. She watched his eyes as he did so. He seemed to be asking her to trust that he would help her find her way, that although they could no longer be lovers they would still be friends. That she could rely on him to stand at her side.

Part of her wanted to scream. Part of her wanted to die. But the stronger part of her was immeasurably grateful to him for his quiet strength and his courage.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

He lowered his head. “I'll never forget our life here.”

“Nor will I. I'll always treasure it.”

 _Voyager_ was minutes away.

He took her hand, and they walked through their small home together for the last time. They stood side by side in front of the cabin, staring straight ahead. She glanced at him.

“Commander.”

“Captain.”

She let his hand drop.

Moments later, the transporter beam took them.


	8. Voyager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay spent several happy months on New Earth where they became lovers.  
> Voyager has returned for them with a cure for the illness that stranded them there, but the planet's strange properties have had some unexpected biological consequences.

Once in sickbay, Kathryn kept her eyes firmly forward. She and Chakotay spent the first ten minutes confined to biobeds behind a quarantine field. The doctor buzzed between them with a whirl of hyposprays, looking more than a little pleased with himself, prattling on about how he had synthesised a cure with the help of the Viidians, and how much the crew had missed them both. It took all Kathryn’s energy to keep her emotions in check.

“So, can I assume you enjoyed an extended vacation?” the doctor asked Chakotay.

“Something like that.” Chakotay replied, his voice flat. He quickly changed the subject. “What’s been happening around here? Besides disobeying the captain’s explicit orders?”

“Oh, the usual. Life in the Delta Quadrant is certainly never dull.”

Throughout it all, Kathryn didn't look once at Chakotay, even though she felt his presence at her side every moment. Even when her first, second and third instincts were to glance his way she forced herself to remain stoic. Everything passed in a distant blur.

Perhaps she imagined it, but the doctor’s posture became oddly strained as he checked their vital signs for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I am pleased to report that no trace of the disease remains in your systems,” he announced, a little less exuberantly than she would have anticipated from his earlier demeanour.

“Good.” Kathryn sat up, ready to leave for the bridge straight away, to get her ship back, and start the hard work of leaving New Earth behind. She finally stole a glance at Chakotay, and found him sitting on his own bed, looking at her. She closed her eyes briefly.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Of course she wasn’t all right! But Chakotay’s soft voice, a reminder of so much that she had to forget, was the last thing she needed to hear right now. There was a mountain ahead of her, and she was alone without a guide, or a rope, or for that matter a decent set of boots. How was she ever going to get through this?

Kathryn squeezed her hands into fists. She had recovered from terrible losses before, and if those experiences had taught her anything it was that time passed and things got easier. She and Chakotay were adults. Starfleet officers. They would adjust.

Somehow. 

The doctor raised a hand. “Commander, you are free to go. Captain, if I may speak with you for a moment?”

Kathryn waved at Chakotay. “Go ahead. I’ll join you on the bridge in a few minutes.” The action was exaggerated, and her tone felt stiff to her own ears. Concern flashed in Chakotay’s eyes, but he went without argument, and she was grateful for that. She watched Chakotay wistfully as he left sickbay, before she turned back to the EMH. “What’s the problem, doctor?”

No sign of his previously cheerful expression remained. “There is something of which I need to inform you.” The doctor turned around and walked to his office, indicating that Kathryn should follow him, which she did with increasing irritation. She'd been back on board _Voyager_ for less than an hour, and already the doctor was delaying her in sickbay. Did all Chief Medical Officers harangue their captains like this?

“All right.” She folded her arms, squinting at him.

He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t seem sure where to look. “It would appear that the planet’s unique properties have interfered with some of the fine chemical balances in your system.” He sighed and scratched his head.

It was odd, Kathryn found herself thinking, that someone would programme an EMH with that kind of nervous tick. She hadn’t noticed it before.

“I'm not quite sure how best to put this,” the doctor went on.

“I find the direct approach is best. Am I sick?”

“No, Captain.”

“Then what?” she snapped. “This really isn’t a good time for guessing games.” She took a deep breath, reining in her temper, and deliberately smiled. “Forgive me, Doctor. I’m just anxious to get back to the bridge after so long away.”

“That’s understandable.” The doctor indicated a medical computer screen. “While you were on the planet, your reproductive hormones spiked. I don’t fully understand why, but particularly luteinizing hormone and FSH.” He pointed at a line on the graph. “You may or may not have noticed a difference to your menstrual cycle, but you were ovulating at a breakneck pace all the time you were there.”

Kathryn felt her face redden a little, although she kept her tone even. “I shouldn’t have been ovulating at all. My boosters were always up to date. I made sure of it.”

“Yes, but as I said the planet’s chemical composition negated the booster’s effect. That has had some, er, unexpected long-term consequences.”

Kathryn could see from the graph just how rapidly her ovaries had been releasing eggs, and at her age she probably didn’t have an abundance left. A flutter of alarm filled her chest. At the rate depicted on the graph it was entirely possible she was effectively headed for an early menopause.

She’d always imagined she’d have children one day, but on New Earth she had come to accept that could never happen and made peace with it. Yet all those blissful, carefree months, her reproductive clock had been ticking at a hugely exaggerated rate. She was glad she hadn’t known at the time. It would have made her sad. And now… Would fate be cruel enough to deliver her back to the Alpha Quadrant one day with the possibility of having a family gone?

Kathryn gritted her teeth, clamping her jaw shut. In the space of thirty hours she had gone from having no responsibilities beside her Talaxian tomatoes to having the fate of a hundred and fifty souls on her shoulders once more. She certainly hadn’t expected to be discussing her reproductive health the moment she set foot on the ship. How the hell was she supposed to process this troubling news right now?

She swallowed hard. “Are you saying its left me infertile?”

“On the contrary.” The Doctor paused, for effect she supposed, as he didn't need to take a breath. He turned to face her. “You are almost five weeks pregnant.”

“What?” Kathryn’s world shifted, as surely as if _Voyager_ had struck a gravimetric mine. She grabbed the side of the Doctor’s desk to steady herself. Then she held up a finger, shaking her head. “Chakotay’s boosters were up to date, too. We were neither careless or irresponsible, given the circumstances we found ourselves in.”  She fixed the doctor with an indignant glare, and shook her head. “You must be mistaken.”

“I’m afraid not. The planet had unpredictable effects on him too. I can show you—”

“That planet!” Kathryn interrupted scornfully, her face heating up, her ears ringing. “This whole situation from start to finish has been some sort of cosmic joke!” She started pacing the small office, and flung her hand to the back of her head in a state of confusion. One moment she had been lamenting the loss of her potential to have children, the next she was faced with this impossible scenario! She couldn’t believe it. Her chest tightened, and her heart pounded.

“Captain, please calm yourself.” The doctor’s voice was kind, uncharacteristically so. “Perhaps we can discuss this with Commander—”

It became hard to breathe, hard to think, even. “No. No, no. I _can't_ be pregnant,” she croaked.

“I assure you, Captain, there's no mistake.” The doctor pulled out a chair, and motioned firmly towards it. “Perhaps you should take a moment to sit down.”


	9. Choices part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn is pregnant, and considers all the options ahead of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Please note this chapter contains KJ weighing up (thinking about) all the possible choices she has with her pregnancy.

 

Kathryn’s head raged. Pregnant? This was too much, too cruel! She'd just got her ship back. She and Chakotay had to find a way to command _Voyager_ again. A baby would throw everything, everything on its head. The red-hot heat of panic gripped her. She had to make a decision, now, before it became real! Before she _couldn't_ make the right choice. 

She swallowed. Her voice sounded hollow. “You misunderstand me. I mean I can't _continue_ to be pregnant.”

“Captain. I realise this is a shock. I recommend you take some time to discuss the situation with Commander Chakotay.”

“No,” she snapped. “And you'll tell no one, not even Chakotay.” A wash of fear swamped her. She wasn't sure if she was speaking to herself or to the doctor, but desperate words flooded out. “I need to deal with this now, before I change my mind.”

The doctor put his hand on her arm, and said firmly, “That's exactly what we will _not_ do.”

“I'm the captain of this ship, I can't afford—”

“You’ve just effectively returned from exile, and you’re also carrying a new life. It's bound to be overwhelming. Not to mention your oestrogen and progesterone levels are spiking, which means your emotions will be on a roller coaster for a while.”  

She opened her mouth in alarm.

He raised a hand. “That's perfectly normal. It will subside in a few weeks, or when you've worked this out.”

The walls were closing in on her. She needed to get out of sickbay.

The doctor called at her retreating form, “I strongly recommend you take time think this through. And involve the child's father.”

Kathryn watched the turbo lift doors swish shut. She took a deep breath and put her hand flat to the wall. She'd always been able to close herself off, bring her laser focus to work on a problem at hand. Compartmentalise issues and deal with them methodically. But this…Her thoughts felt… scattered, displaced. Unreal.

She took deep breath, and another, until her body began to relax. She could face a red alert with cool calm, so there was no excuse for going into a tailspin right now.  _Get a grip, Janeway!_

The doctor was right. She couldn't possibly make a choice like this without thinking it through carefully. Back there in sickbay, she’d panicked shamefully. Her reaction went against everything she believed in: protecting life in all forms. On top of that, if she didn’t have this baby, did her accelerated cycle mean she’d loose the chance forever? She went from heated to boiling point to a chill sweeping through her.

In theory, she’d always been pro-choice. It was just a choice she hoped never to make. Damn it, she _shouldn’t_ have to make it.

She shook her head. Well, she wouldn't be deciding in the next hour. First, she was taking her ship back.    

“Welcome back, Captain,” Tuvok said, as she walked onto the bridge.

She paused in front of his work station, gathering her reserve, and her wits, focusing on him so she didn’t have to look at her first officer. She smiled at Tuvok. “The doctor tells me you contacted the Vidiians after all.”

“I disobeyed your order, Captain. I am prepared to accept the consequences.” His Vulcan reserve wavered almost imperceptibly. Did he know, or suspect what it cost her and Chakotay to abandon the life they’d built?   

To save his discomfort, and her own, she fell back on a quip; “If I didn't know you better, I'd say your decision was almost emotional.” She surveyed the bridge, carefully avoiding Chakotay’s eyes, and forced her mind to accept what was right in front of her: she’d regained much more than she’d lost. If she told herself that enough times it might come to feel like the truth. “Thank you all. Well, we've lost time with all this. Let's see if we can make some of it up.” She slapped Tom on the shoulder. “Mister Paris, warp eight.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Kathryn took her seat beside Chakotay, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Back to business. “Commander, we'll need to review the ship's systems. I'll handle propulsion, environmental and communication. You'll be responsible for sensors, weapons and transporters.”

“Aye, Captain. I'll have a report to you by eighteen hundred hours.”

“Check with phaser maintenance. See if they solved that problem with the pre-fire chamber temperature.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll see to it.”

Kathryn tried to fill her head with the ship’s systems, checking status reports from her chair, but it was impossible the doctor’s words ringing in her ears and with Chakotay so close. She needed to talk to him alone. _No_. She needed to process this herself. She needed space. She stood up. “I’ll be in Engineering. Commander, you have the bridge.”

He didn’t look at her, not until she turned away at any rate, and then she _felt_ his eyes burning her back.

Every crew member she passed on her way to Engineering welcomed her with such genuine warmth it was hard not to feel emotional. She thanked them, smiled, and kept walking.

“Captain! It’s good to see you.” B’Elanna’s smile was a little more subdued but no less genuine.

“Good to be back, B'Elanna.”

The Chief Engineer stared at her. “You look well. That planet must have agreed with you.”

Kathryn looked down at her own hands. She hadn’t really noticed on New Earth, but her skin had darkened in the sun, leaving her usually pale complexion with a golden tan. But her time on the planet was a topic she didn’t intend to explore in detail with anyone. “Healthy outdoor living,” she said. “Now, how are my engines?”

B’Elanna stared at her a moment longer, and then nodded. “We’ve been upgrading the power relays to increase the plasma conversion rate.”

“How did you compensate for the additional stress on the nacelles?”

“We increased the integrity of the warp manifolds.”

Kathryn nodded. “Show me,” she said. Perhaps if she rolled up her sleeves and got her hands dirty she'd feel a little more like Captain Janeway.

#

Chakotay watched Kathryn leave the bridge, and noted Tuvok following his gaze. He turned quickly away, inwardly cursing his carelessness. He’d have to keep his emotions under control. He could rely on Tuvok not to speculate or gossip, but it would be much harder to hide any tension within the command team from the rest of the crew. Of course people would wonder about what had developed between their CO’s over the months they were alone, but with any luck, there would be a rash of tattle for a week, and then the whole thing would be forgotten.

That depended on he and Kathryn coming back together as a strong and professional command team, of course. He _had_ to avoid looking like a heartbroken puppy. He’d loved Kathryn quietly and at a distance for two years, he could do it again. Get the crew home, and maybe things could be different between them. If he held onto that hope, perhaps he could survive the anguish of looking at her every day and not holding her.

The time dragged. Kathryn didn't return to the bridge, but good as his word, Chakotay compiled his report on the status of sensors, weapons and transporters. At 1800 hours, he checked her ready room, but the Captain wasn’t there.

“Computer, locate Captain Janeway.”

“Captain Janeway is in her quarters.”

Chakotay handed the bridge over to the beta shift and headed towards deck three. He hadn't even returned to his quarters yet. He paused by his door, but elected to go straight to Kathryn’s instead. The idea of seeing his familiar room, his own bed, filled him with an odd feeling of trepidation. It was irrational, he knew, but it felt as if once he went inside his own quarters, his life with Kathryn on New Earth would really be over.

He clenched his fists. It _was_ over. He had to help her now. Be professional. Show her he meant it when he said he wouldn't try to change her mind. He would offer her the report and go. Maybe he'd just check if her replicator was back on line, so she wouldn't forget to eat. But that's all he'd do.

Commander Chakotay rolled his shoulders and chimed his captain’s door.

“Come in.” Her voice was hoarse. She stopped halfway across the floor, as if she had been pacing.

He clutched the PADD in front of him, but let it fall to his side when he saw her. She looked distressed, her hair dishevelled, her eyes reddened.

He stepped towards her. “Kathryn, what's wrong?”

She put her hand up to halt him. “This… this is proving to be a little more complicated than I thought.”

“Being back?”

She nodded. Then she glanced at the sofa, but elected to sit at the table, moving away from him. Without invitation, he sat down opposite her, his brain racing. This wasn't at all what he'd expected. If one of them was going to emotionally collapse, frankly he'd thought it would be him.

He put the PADD on the table, unsure what to say. Did she regret the decision to part? Had she changed her mind? A dangerous kind of hope began to swell in his heart.

He chose his words carefully. “Talk to me, Kathryn.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment. Then she took a deep breath, obviously forcing calm onto her face, and looked at him. “I'm sorry, Chakotay. It's just a bit disorienting, that's all.” She reached across the table for the PADD. “Did you bring me a report?”

He continued to stare at her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She forced a laugh that didn't reach her eyes. “I'll get there. Now, what do you have to tell me?”    

“Actually, very little. Tuvok has maintained _Voyager’s_ systems rather rigorously. In fact,” Chakotay gave a sheepish cough before continuing, “he scheduled tactical drills and efficiency screenings more regularly than you ever did. Battle ready response times are three percent better than when we left.”

Kathryn gave a dry laugh. “Well, something good has come of this whole mess.”

Her reply jolted him. He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, Chakotay. I think it would be better if you leave now.”

“Don't push me away. We can get through this together.” He pushed his hands towards hers over the table.

She shook her head, drawing her hands back. “I need…I need some space.” She looked choked, her eyes pleading, and he couldn't help thinking space was the last thing she needed. She got to her feet.  

“Please, Kathryn. Let me help.” He desperately wanted to take her in his arms, and for a moment he thought that's what she wanted too. All his resolutions turned to dust. He stood up and took a step forward, bringing his arms around her.

She drew in a shaking breath, her body tense, and she lifted her hand to lay it flat on his chest. “I don't want to hurt you,” she whispered. “Please. Just go.”

His stomach dropped, his throat tightened. How had they fallen apart so quickly? “If that's what you want,” he said stiffly.

“It's what I need.”

“Kathryn,” he whispered.

“Please,” was all she said, shaking her head, looking away.

He stepped back, and walked stiffly to the door, his eyes burning. He didn't turn back, he couldn't. Thankfully, he saw no one on the short walk to his own quarters. He jabbed the door code, and once inside, he let his rage go, slamming his fist into the bulkhead, over and over until he was breathless and bleeding, and he slumped, broken, on the floor. 

#

As Kathryn watched Chakotay leave desperation boiled inside her. Even as he walked away she had to bite down the urge to call him back, collapse into his arms and tell him everything. How could she keep this from him? In any other life but this one, a baby would be cause for joy. He would be a good father, too, patient and kind. He would more than compensate for her many failings.

“Let me help,” he'd said. That was the one thing she couldn't ask of him. How could she burden him this way, when having a child was impossible? How many times had she risked life and limb to save her crew? Needed laser-sharp focus just to keep them alive? How could she possibly do that and carry a child? Yet, how could she destroy the tiny life inside her? A small piece of her and Chakotay. It was all too awful to contemplate. If she could spare him this pain, she surely must.

She collapsed onto her bed. Perhaps this was all a terrible dream, and she'd wake in their little cabin, with the sunshine dancing through the window, Chakotay at her side.

_If only._

That night, she tossed and turned. She got up and paced the floor. A hundred times she picked up her comm badge to call him, but thrust it down in despair. She replicated coffee, but couldn't drink it. Once, she even found herself about to leave her room with the intention of flying into his arms, but instead she slammed her palm into the bulkhead. She had to get a grip. Raised hormone levels or not, she couldn't go on like this. She had to use her reason and figure this out.

It boiled down to this: could she be the captain and a mother?

Her father had always told her, when faced with difficult choices, “Go back to your values, Goldenbird. Those deeply held principles that guide you. The ideas you hold close to your heart. They light your way.” Well, she believed in choice: that she and every other birth-capable sentient being had the right to bodily autonomy. That belief extended to fathers, too. She’d been disgusted by Seska’s claim to have stolen Chakotay’s DNA and, without his knowledge or consent, impregnated herself with his child. No, Kathryn’s belief in choice ran deep. There were compelling reasons _not_ to proceed with this pregnancy.

She also believed that life was precious, and that every life was worth preserving. Wasn't that principle that got them stranded in the Delta Quadrant in the first place? And she _wanted_ to be a mother. She'd imagined she and Mark would have children, and in idle moments on New Earth she'd dreamed impossible dreams of the child she and Chakotay could never have. That child was inside her right now. And, most distressingly, it might be her only chance.

When sleep finally came, she drifted into restless dreams of a baby with dark hair and blue eyes. Then their perfect child morphed into a half-Cardassian baby, screaming in Seska’s arms.

_The Cardassian spy laughed cruelly. “You’re no better than me, Janeway. Taking his DNA. Well I suppose, you did get it the fun way.” Seska’s eyes turned hard. “At least I never considered murdering his child.”_

Kathryn started awake, her blood pumping in her ears. How the hell could she do this to him? How would she feel if Chakotay kept something like this from her? She was nothing like Seska. She had to tell him.

She showered and dressed quickly. By 0700 she was striding towards his door. She felt a different mix of nerves now. How would he react? What would it mean for them? She didn't know the answer. All she knew was that he deserved to know, and she needed not be alone with this crushing weight on her shoulders. The truth was she loved him just as much today as she had last week.

His door was a metre in front of her when her comm badge chirped. “Sickbay to Captain Janeway.”

She slapped her chest with irritation. “What is it, Doctor?”

“Captain, could you come to sickbay? There's something I'd like to discuss with you.”

Kathryn’s feet halted. Should she tell Chakotay and take him to sickbay with her, or find out what the doctor wanted first? Perhaps there had been a mistake. Perhaps there something was wrong. She clenched her fists and released them. She should probably find out what she was dealing with before she dragged Chakotay into this heart-breaking mess.

Kathryn turned away from his door and headed to sickbay.


	10. Choices Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doctor presents Kathryn with options around her pregnancy, and Seska presents Chakotay with a dilemma.

“What is it, Doctor?” Kathryn asked as she entered sickbay, her face flushed, her heart whirling with anxiety. She’d been seconds from telling Chakotay about the baby when the doctor called her, and all the way to sickbay her mind had been racing. Perhaps the doctor had discovered something wrong with the baby. Perhaps there was no baby at all. Maybe this whole thing had been a weird after effect of that bizarre planetary environment.

The doctor smiled gently. “Captain, I’ve been considering your situation. It seems to me that you see your choices as to either have the baby or terminate the pregnancy. I want to present you with a third option.”

Kathryn stopped short. That wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting. She motioned him into his office, away from the open area of sickbay where anyone could walk in on their conversation.

“I’m listening.”

“It’s not a routinely offered procedure, as there are some risks. But I could use a finely directed transporter beam to move the embryo and place it in a specially designed stasis chamber.”

Kathryn’s brain went into overdrive. It would give her time to think things through properly. To get everything back on track. Who knows, any day they could find a wormhole that would take them direct into Federation space. Maybe when they got home, she’d be free to have this child. Be a mother. Perhaps she could spare Chakotay the turmoil of having to deal with an unexpected pregnancy in the Delta Quadrant. This changed everything. 

“It would be possible to re-implant the embryo at a later date?”

“Certainly,” said the doctor.

Kathryn nodded. “You mentioned risks?”

“Medically, the procedure is safe. It’s the psychological impact on the parents that has proven more challenging. Ideally we would have the father here to discuss this, although I understand circumstances make that difficult.”  

Kathryn wasn’t worried about the psychological impact. That could hardly be any worse than the strain she was under right now, or the difficulties she and Chakotay would surely face if they took one of the other two options. The doctor was throwing her a lifeline.

“When can you do it?”

“We can complete the procedure now, if you wish.”

This choice—having _not_ to make a choice—was easy.

Kathryn expected to feel something when the transporter beam took the bundle of cells from her womb, but she was mistaken. The beam was so tight and focused that she didn’t even notice the usual tingling in her chest when the signal locked on.

The doctor stood beside her, holding a metal canister with a window at the front.

“Can I see?” Kathryn asked, sitting up on the biobed. She hadn’t even needed to remove her uniform.

“Of course.” The doctor activated the window, which lit up. Inside, her child resembled a tadpole more than a human baby, but she could see the beginnings of a spinal cord, a bulge which she took to be the start of a beating heart. “This view is magnified several hundred times,” the doctor said. “The embryo is about the size of a sesame seed at the moment.” His voice took on a softer tone. “And will remain that way until you are in a position to make a choice.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Kathryn said. She bit her lip. Her throat felt raw. “Keep it safe for me.” She raised the back of her hand to her mouth for a moment, before rolling her shoulders in an attempt to haul herself back together.

“Her,” the doctor said. “The routine genetic scan shows the child to be female. I’ve prepared a secure area, away from the other samples in sickbay.” He left the biobed, and placed the canister inside a cupboard on the wall in his office before returning to her side. “I strongly suggest you discuss this with Commander Chakotay. I’m no expert on human nature, but my psychological database tells me the longer these things go unspoken, the harder it becomes to resolve the emotional fallout.”

“Thank you, doctor. I’ll bare that in mind.”

Kathryn tugged her uniform needlessly back into place. _Her_ _daughter_. Why had the doctor said that? Didn’t he understand that made it harder, not easier? Now this bundle of cells was a real child, a little girl running _Voyager’s_ corridors in Kathryn’s mind’s eye. The doctor might have a vast psychological database, but he still had a lot to learn about human emotions.

He was still talking. “Your hormone levels should return to normal within a week or so. Given planet’s impact on your fertility, I recommend you consider a precedure to harvest a sample of your remaining eggs and place those in stasis, too.”

“I’ll consider it. Anything else?”

“I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a contraceptive shot, if you’ll permit me?”

Kathryn flushed red hot. “Of course,” she said as the doctor pressed a hypospray to her neck. “Although it won’t be necessary now we’re back on _Voyager._ ” She took hold of the doctor’s arm. “I expect you to maintain absolute confidentiality about this. _”_

Without glancing back, she headed out of sickbay and towards the bridge. Now she had the space and time to get life back under her control. Find her feet on the bridge again and get some balance in her relationship with Chakotay. The first thing she should do was apologise for her behaviour last night.

#

Chakotay was forced to go to sickbay to have the doctor take a look at his knuckles. When he’d woken up, he’d hardly been able to close his fist. He saw Kathryn leaving, but hung back out of sight, embarrassed that she might notice the result of his second burst of violent anger in the space of three days.

The doctor merely raised an eyebrow at his injury. “I don’t suppose you care to share how this happened?”

Chakotay didn't. Instead he asked, “I noticed the captain was just in here. Is she all right?” At least she’d looked calmer this morning. That was something to be grateful for, he supposed.

“I’d no more divulge anything about the captain to you than I would notify her that I’m pulling fragments of bulkhead out of _your_ knuckles, Commander.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough.”

“There. Good as new. And I recommend boxing gloves the next time you feel the need to strike something.”

Kathryn was already on the bridge when Chakotay arrived.

“Good morning,” she said. She didn’t quite crack a smile, and her eyes looked a little dark, but overall she looked more together than she had the evening before. He didn’t quite know whether to feel pleased or disappointed. _Good,_ he told himself firmly. _It’s good she’s holding together. And if she can do it, then you can too._

After a round of sensor checks and a slight course alteration, she stood up. “I’ll be in my ready room. Give me an hour, Commander, and then I’d like us to review ship’s personnel rosters.”

He nodded. An hour. She wanted an hour and then to talk with him. What did that mean? Searching for ulterior motives in every request she made of him would drive him crazy. Maybe she had meant exactly what she said, nothing more.

#

Kathryn sat behind her desk, gathering herself. It felt easier, or at least possible, to survive this situation now that the pressure to make a decision was gone. She could put the problem of the baby aside for a week or too. Get them back on track to the Alpha Quadrant. She and Chakotay could find their way back to solid ground, and then, when her equilibrium was fully restored, they could have a conversation about the pregnancy. He'd understand her not telling him straight away, while everything was so raw. Wouldn't he?

Chakotay arrived punctually. He looked as uncertain as she’d ever seen him, his eyes flitting over her and sharply away. He must have been hurt by the way she treated him last night. She was his senior officer. It was _her_ responsibility to make their return to a professional relationship as comfortable for him as she could. Ending their relationship when it was the last thing he wanted had been hard enough on him. Knowing about the baby would only hurt him more. He didn't deserve any extra pain. She would carry this burden for them both.

She smiled at him as he stood awkwardly in front of her desk. “Please, take a seat. Chakotay. First I want to apologise to you. I had no business falling apart like that last night. I'm sorry.”

“It wasn't so much you falling apart that bothered me. It was pushing me away that hurt. You can’t help how you feel any more than I can.”

Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment, grasping for protocols and words to save her. Save them _both_.

“I rely on you, Chakotay. As my first officer, I need to know that you’ll not only back me up, but pull me up if I go too far. I believe we can only do that if we stay objective. That's what we have to get back to. We need to separate our emotional lives.” She sighed. “I’ll be honest. If I'd let you comfort me last night, I don't know where we would have been this morning.”

“Happier?”

“That's just it, Chakotay. We're in command of a ship lost sixty thousand light years from home. It's not a job that comes with an automatic right to happiness.”

He closed his eyes. “The only way this separation will be bearable for me is if I know you're all right.”

“I’m all right.” She knew she'd spoken too quickly. She stumbled on. “We need to maintain our personal space. That way we’ll be less tempted to… resume the intimate side of our relationship.”

He shook his head, but he didn’t challenge her. She took that as agreement.

Harry Kim’s voice sounded through her comms. “Bridge to Captain Janeway. We're being hailed on a subspace frequency.”

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay. This was life on _Voyager_ : Navigating the unknown, dealing with aliens and shortages and crew problems. Their transition back to full command roles had been short, if not sweet.

“Are you ready, Commander?” she asked.

“I'm ready, Captain.” He sounded resigned.

She nodded, grateful that he hadn't made this difficult. She stood up, and he followed her onto the bridge.

“Report,” she said crisply.

Tom Paris turned in his seat. “It's coming from an unmanned buoy, coordinates one four zero mark three one seven.”

Seska, of all people, appeared on screen. “Chakotay, they're going to take your son. I hear them coming. I don't have much time. When Culluh saw the baby wasn't his he was furious. Please Chakotay, help us. Not for me, for your son.” She held a small child, bundled in grey cloth.

The viewscreen burst into static

Seska screamed, “No, please don't. Don't take him! I beg you. No! Please, no!”

For an instant Kathryn looked aghast at Chakotay. She almost choked, but immediately smothered her reaction. She must not, under any circumstances, fall apart. She had her pips back, and it was time to act like a captian.

All eyes on the bridge were on him. His face contorted with shock and anger. 

Protectively, she took hold of his arm. “Let's talk in my ready room,” she said, anxious to shield him from the probing eyes of the bridge crew.

#

Chakotay paced Kathryn’s ready room furiously. “Seksa is not my responsibility! She has no right to expect me to do anything!” How could this possibly be true? He wanted to slam his fist into another bulkhead.

“She knew how you'd react when you saw your child in danger.”

“I have a duty to _you_ and this crew. I can't just leave and go looking for the child.”

“And I'd never consider letting you go into a Kazon-Nistrim stronghold by yourself. If we do this, we do it together. That's something else Seska would know.”

“Do you think it's a trap?” He stared hard at Kathryn, who looked infuriatingly unruffled by this bizarre turn of events. He hadn't given Seska and her twisted plans a second thought since he and Kathryn arrived on New Earth. He'd been much more focused on building a future with her than worrying about Seska's schemes.

“Do I think Seska is capable of manipulating us? Oh, yes,” Kathryn said.

He took a deep breath and forced his mind to think rationally. What if it was true? What if he had a child? How could he ignore his own flesh and blood?

“On the other hand,” he said, all the time gauging Kathryn’s reaction, “it was time for her to deliver, and that baby we saw did look part Cardassian and part human.”

“And knowing Culluh, I'm sure his pride was wounded when he realised the child wasn't his. It makes sense, Chakotay. It might all be true.”

Even if it was, it was done without his consent. He didn't want Seska opening old wounds. Even if he rescued Seska and the child, what then? Throw Seska in the brig and share the care of this child aboard _Voyager_?

“Still,” he said, “the safest thing would be to ignore this message and resume our course.”

“I'm not going to resume our course just yet. I know you didn't have a choice in the conception of this child. But I want you to think about it carefully. This baby could be a part of you, alive and in danger. A child. Your child. Chakotay. This has to be your decision. If you choose to go after him, I know I speak for the entire crew, Starfleet and Maquis alike, when I say we'll stand behind you.”

Chakotay saw the deep concern in Kathryn’s eyes. What would a child mean in his life?

“I didn't ask for this.”

“I know. And I’m truly sorry. But it's happened,” she said, looking away from him, and for a moment her eyes were awash with sadness. “I'll support you, Chakotay. Whatever you decide.”

#

Chakotay wasn’t sure how he’d expected Kathryn to react to the situation, but she’d remained objective, calm and collected. Or at least that’s how she seemed. He still wasn’t sure what was going on in her head, although he suspected hiding her feelings wasn’t quite as easy as she made it look.

A baby, his own flesh and blood. If there was a chance the baby was really his, he wanted to watch him grow up. Perhaps he _could_ raise the boy on _Voyager._ Maybe it would even bring he and Kathryn closer together. She’d told him on New Earth she’d always hoped she’d have the chance to be a mother. He’d seen the way Kathryn looked at baby Wildman. She’d have plenty of love in her heart for a child, and it was that thought, in the end, that helped him decide to take the risk.

They flew right into a trap.

When the Kazon boarded _Voyager_ , Tuvok’s voice sounded far away to Chakotay. “Intruder alert. Security to decks five through seven.”

Beside him. Kathryn barely flinched. “Begin evacuation. Janeway to Computer. Initiate self-destruct sequence. Authorisation, Janeway pi one one zero. Set at ten minutes.”

Chakotay dragged his eyes back to his controls.

The computer voice sounded. “Unable to initiate self-destruct sequence due to damage to secondary command processors.”

The next moment, two heavily armed Kazon stormed the bridge. “Stay where you are.”

“Hold your fire,” Kathryn said, palms up.  

The Kazon forced the crew to their knees. “Get down there! You! Move!”

Kathryn held her head high. “I want to speak to Maje Culluh.”

“Easily arranged, Captain.” Culluh strode onto the bridge, followed by Seska.

“Hello, everyone. What do you think of your son, Chakotay? He has your eyes, don't you think? Thank goodness he doesn't look too human.”

“May he grow up never knowing the contempt his father has for his mother,” Chakotay spat.

Kathryn put a hand on his arm, a wordless command not to provoke their captors. “Culluh,” she said calmly. “I'd like to discuss what happens now.”

Culluh struck Kathryn about the face. She didn’t make a sound, she just shot Chakotay a warning glare. With a supreme effort, he stilled his visceral response. He was no good to Kathryn, or the crew, dead.

Culluh strutted the bridge like a crow. “I want to leave for the Hanon system as soon as possible.

Dread filled Chakotay. “What's in the Hanon system?

Seska smiled. “Your new home.”

#

The Kazon soldier ripped Kathryn’s comm badge from her chest, tearing away her last tangible link to Starfleet, and _Voyager._  “A fitting end for a people who would not share their technology. Let's see if you manage to survive without it,” he sneered.

The Kazon beamed away, leaving Kathryn and her crew at the mercy of a planet that was hot, bleak and barren. 

Kathryn steeled her heart to address her senior officers, ignoring the throbbing bruise on her face from where the Kazon had struck her.  “All right. Let's go. We've got to find water and shelter. Make it clear we expect to be rescued and our job is to survive until help arrives.”

Neelix looked skeptical. “Do you really think it's likely that someone will find us, Captain?”

“You're the morale officer, Neelix. You give me an answer.”

Neelix moved off swiftly with the cry, “Help is on the way!”

Kathryn smiled at that, despite herself.

Harry looked up at the sky. “Maybe Tom's shuttle got through.” Kathryn followed his gaze. Right now, Tom Paris was their only hope of rescue.

Kathryn’s relief when they eventually found the shelter of a cave was palpable. She instructed her tired crew, “Huddle together in groups. That'll preserve body heat. This is no time to be shy.” They needed comfort any way they could get it.

Kathryn had watched Chakotay carrying Sam Wildman’s baby with such care and love. It had sent a pang right through her heart. He would be a good father. It broke her heart that their own child might be lost forever. That little piece of the joy New Earth had gifted them with. _No._ She had to believe they would get back to _Voyager_ , and that someday she would hold her daughter in her arms, Chakotay at her side. Once Sam was settled against the cave wall, Chakotay handed the baby back to her.

Kathryn walked over and crouched by Sam. “How's she doing?”

“I don't know, Captain. She seems tired, listless.”

She put a reassuring hand on Sam’s arm. “Maybe she's just adjusting to the environment. After all, she was born in space. Make sure you stay close to the fire, as soon as we have one.”

Chakotay, who had begun efforts to start said fire, scowled. “You’re trapped on a barren planet with the only Indian in the universe who can't start a fire by rubbing two sticks together. I was never good at this as a child and I'm still not good at it.” 

She put a gentle hand on his arm, and her touch seemed to calm him. “Don't be so hard on yourself. None of the others have had any success with it either. Must be the wood.”

“We need kindling of some sort.”

He stared at her. His eyes made her heart jolt, and when he reached out, touching her hair, the way he so often did on New Earth, she took in a sharp breath.

“What?” They had agreed to maintain their personal space: the way this intimate gesture made her feel was _exactly_ the reason why. She wanted to take a step back from him, but couldn’t. 

“Something my father once told me about starting a fire.”

Kathryn understood at once. He could use her hair to spark life into the fire. Still, his eyes held her trapped. How could she let him do something as intimate as cut her hair in front of the crew? She became aware of Harry watching them. Heart still racing, she took a step back.

The ensign quickly turned away, but she called to him. “Harry, find something sharp. You’re going to cut my hair.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, looking more than a little uncomfortable at the prospect. 

Kathryn glanced back at Chakotay. He nodded his silent agreement.

They went about the task efficiently, with as much dignity as possible, and soon fires were burning.

Kathryn quickly pulled her fingers through her remaining hair, once, and sighed. Then she toured her distracted crew, dealing out hope and encouragement like a good captain should. She crouched by Sam Wildman again.

Sam’s voice was tight. “She has a fever. I don’t know what to do.”

The baby’s pitiful cries struck her right in the chest, threatening to choke Kathryn. Sam’s baby was feverish and suffering. She tried to find words to console Sam, but they stuck in her throat. She set her jaw. She had to get a grip. Ensign Wildman’s child would not die here.

She put a reassuring hand on Sam’s arm, and then straightened up. “Let me get you some water to bring her tempreture down.”

After that, she surveyed her people as they settled to sleep huddled together for warmth and comfort. Drawing strength from one another.

Yet again, her choices placed them all in terrible danger.

Kathryn realised her decision to support Chakotay in pursuing Seska and the child was driven by guilt, but how could she have done anything else? Seska's child could be her own child's half-brother. The thought made her head spin.

Tuvok had posted lookouts at the cave mouth on two hour shifts. He’d refused her offer of taking watch, pointing out that the crew would be better served by her resting. He was probably right, but the prospect of sleep right now seemed remote. 

She moved to the edge of the cavern and settled against a rock. Sam’s baby had fallen silent. She saw the child’s tiny face in her mind’s eye, and it made her heart ache. And Kathryn’s own almost-child? God knows where. Perhaps she should be grateful. Her baby would be no safer inside her right now on this hostile world than she was aboard _Voyager,_ and being pregnant would certainly make survival harder, if not impossible. For the first time since she had made the decision to pause the pregnancy, she was truly glad she’d done it. She’d made a rational choice and also spared Chakotay pain. Had to be a win-win, didn't it?

She felt rather than saw him move silently towards her in the darkness and take a place by her side. Who else would sit so close?

“How are you holding up?” she asked him softly.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I find myself a captain without a starship for the second time in short order. I don't think this exile will be as easy as the last.” She laughed dryly. “No bathtub, for one thing.” 

She saw his smile in the dark. “Give me time.”

“Life would be terribly hard on a planet like this.”

“I'd make a life with you anywhere,” he whispered.

Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment, tempted to fall into that sweet dream. In the end she said, “Tom will find a way. We just have to survive long enough for him to come back.”

“That's a rousing speech for the crew, Kathryn. But this is me you're talking to.”

Kathryn sighed. She felt a strong compulsion to take his hand, to draw courage from him, and offer him comfort in return. He must have felt it too, because somehow, without her ever meaning to let it happen, their fingers entwined.

“Sorry about your hair.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m more than willing to make.”

“One of many,” he said softly.

She felt the warmth of his hand, and didn't have the will to disentangle their fingers, or words to respond in a captainly manner. She just knew she needed his quiet strength. She wanted to let her back rest against his chest, and feel his arms snake around her belly, and if anyone should notice them together, well, she couldn’t bring herself to give a single damn about that prospect.

“Can you spare a shoulder?” she whispered.

His soft voice caressed the darkness, and somehow it made her breathe a little easier when he whispered, “Always.”


	11. Two Minutes of Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their exile and rescue from the barren planet, life on Voyager goes on. Kathryn finds it harder to maintain the lie.

It took the help of the Talaxians and cost Lon Sudar his life, but Tom returned with the doctor and saved them all from exile, in the end. 

Seska didn’t survive, and the child hadn’t been Chakotay’s after all.

Chakotay stood by a biobed in sickbay and drew a sheet over Seksa’s face. She had paid the ultimate price for her ambition and callous lies. The child she falsely claimed to be his would never know his mother, and despite everything, there was something tragic about that. His heart felt heavy.

As he made his way to deck three to clean up, Kathryn fell into step alongside him. “Are you disappointed Seska’s child wasn’t yours?”

“I don’t know. I feel more saddened by the whole thing I suppose.” He gave a half-hearted laugh. “I’d started to imagine what it would be like to be a father.”

She turned sharply. “Oh?”

“Well, there’s already a baby on this ship. Why not two?”

Kathryn continued to look at him with an odd expression. 

“Naomi might have liked a playmate,” he went on. “Although I suppose her accelerated maturation rate might make that a little odd.

“Oh, of course.” She paused. “Don’t you think a baby would make life… complicated?”

He laughed. “I’m sure it would. But for my own child, I’d be prepared to deal with the complications.” Kathryn stared at him, her eyes unfathomable. He wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. 

“Still, it’s a moot point,” he went on, trying to claw back the ground he had lost. He needed to find a way to tell her he’d wait for her, that he held onto the dream that they could be together someday, even if that day was far in the future. He lowered his voice. “I’m quite sure I won’t be fathering any children in the Delta Quadrant.” 

That seemed to make her face crumble.

“Kathryn, what’s wrong?”

She pulled herself back together quickly, but he cursed himself for saying the wrong thing. Again.

“We should clean up and get back to the bridge,” she said, continuing along the corridor, fists swinging tightly at her side. 

He inclined his head. “Of course. I’ll see you up there, Captain,” he called. She didn’t look back. 

There was a yawning chasm inside him, empty and aching, but he held on to the hope that one day, she'd come back to him. After all, he was a patient man. 

#

Kathryn woke early. For weeks now she had slept badly. She would tumble awake and look at the empty space beside her. She missed Chakotay in her bed more than she could possibly have imagined. Their passion on New Earth had unlocked something in her, and it was hard to put that demon back in the box.

Each morning she let herself have two minutes. Two minutes of longing, and grief and regret that he wasn’t there beside her. That he was with her but not _with_ her. That she had to lie to him every day by not telling him about their child. 

Then she washed the guilt away with strong coffee, pulled on her uniform and started her day. 

As she paced the corridor towards the bridge, Neelix ran to catch up. “Captain! I've taken the liberty of leaving a plate of the most delicious arken fruit in your ready room. We picked them up from that planet in the Kalibaki system. The crew are quite taken with them.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I didn't want you to miss out.”

“That's very thoughtful of you, Neelix.” 

“We haven't seen you much in the mess hall lately. We're having Bolian stew tonight. It's quite popular, if I say so myself.” 

“Sounds intriguing.” 

“I'll save you a portion!”

Kathryn nodded her thanks and continued to the bridge. She wasn't exactly avoiding the mess hall, it was just easier if she didn't bump into Chakotay off duty. Fewer opportunities for her deception to stare her in the face. She could put her feelings aside when a crisis demanded their attention, and god knows the Delta Quadrant wasn’t short of those. But in quiet moments her thoughts returned to what she couldn't have, and the longing, oh it hurt. It was too hard to look into his honest eyes and live with her lie.

#

Chakotay hesitated by the ready room door. He gripped the PADD in his hand tighter than he needed to, and took a deep breath. As the weeks passed, it was getting easier to speak to Kathryn alone without tearing his heart out, but there were moments when he needed to reign himself in to stop saying what he really felt. This was one of them. 

She wouldn't thank him for what he was about to say. The crew had noticed their captain was running on empty. First Neelix, then B’Elanna spoke to him, and when Harry made a comment that the captain looked dark under the eyes, Chakotay knew couldn’t ignore her unhappiness any more.

He stood in front of her desk. Neelix’s plate of arken fruit lay untouched, next to an empty coffee cup.

“What can I do for you?” Her smile was warm, deliberately so. Like she was trying to make _him_ feel better.

“I wondered if you'd join me for dinner tonight,” he said bluntly.

She looked taken aback. “We agreed that would be a bad idea.”

“Not eating properly is a bad idea. Kathryn, people are noticing you've lost weight. I'm surprised the doctor hasn't spoken to you.”

She scowled. “Who says he hasn't?” Then she stood up to face him, that smile back on her face. “Really, I'm fine, Chakotay. You know me, I skip the odd meal when I'm busy, but it's nothing to worry about.”

“I _do_ know you. And you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“I appreciate your concern. If it makes you feel better, I’ll come to the mess hall tonight.”

He was taken aback at her easy agreement. He squinted at her. “Honestly?”

“Of course. Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to finish these reports.”

Chakotay turned and left, but her curt response left a sour feeling in his gut, like he couldn't quite trust her. He dismissed the thought as unworthy, and returned to the bridge. 

He waited for her all evening, pacing the mess hall, trying his hardest not to look restless. By twenty one hundred hours, he asked the computer to locate her.

“Captain Janeway is in her quarters.”

Chakotay clamped his jaw tight. She’d lied. Well, she wasn’t going to get away with it that easily. He took the portion of stew Neelix had saved and marched to her quarters. 

When she opened the door, her face fell in shock, or an approximation of that emotion. “Oh, Chakotay, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

He scrutinised her face. He could hardly accuse her of lying, but he didn't really believe her, either. “It’s all right,” he said carefully. “I’ve brought you some of Neelix famous stew.” Confronting her would get him precisely nowhere, he was certain of that much.

She raised an eyebrow. “Famous?”

“It’s really not that bad,” he said, trying to lighten the tone. 

She took the tray from him. “Thank you, Commander.” Her voice was tight, her shoulders full of tension.

“Captain, you don't have to spend your evenings alone here. Come join us on the holodeck or the mess once in a while.”

“I'm tired, Chakotay,” she said. The weariness in her eyes was real.

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “No wonder, if you're not eating. Are you sleeping?”

She didn't move aside to let him in as he hoped for, but she didn't back off, either, or shut the door. For a moment they were trapped like moths circling a flame, locked in a tragic dance neither of them knew how to break free from. 

The pain in her eyes burned him.

“Kathryn,” he said, not certain how the sentence should end, knowing only that she was hurting every bit as much as he was. 

She raised a hand. “Chakotay, don't.”

He stared at her. She was pushing him away. Anger simmered in his chest. 

“Don't do this. I feel like I've not only lost my lover, but my friend, too. It doesn't have to be like this.”

She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin slightly as if she was facing off an alien threat rather than talking to the man who had held her hand as they watched the stars fall, or built a bathtub and a boat just to please her. A man who loved her still and likely would never stop loving her.

“I don't know any other way to be,” she said. She took a step backwards. “Thanks for the stew.”

It made his heart ache, but he should expect this by now. She’d meant what she said about keeping their distance, and he understood why. But he hated it. 

He had to find a way to survive this, so he did the only thing he could. 

He smiled softly and inclined his head. “You’re welcome, Captain. Goodnight.” He walked along the corridor without looking back, his heart heavier than he ever thought possible. It was a long time before her door swished shut.     

#  

Kathryn watched Chakotay leave with a desperate mix of irritation and despair in her heart. She loathed seeing the pain in Chakotay's eyes when she pushed him away. Every time, she hated herself a little bit more.

All the same, she knew in her bones she was doing the right thing. Just… why did it have to be so damn difficult? She didn't _want_ to hurt him like this. She kept telling herself she was saving him—saving them both—from a far bigger hurt, but it was getting harder and harder to believe it. 

What's more, the scientist in her wouldn't let her mind delude her into believing she was perfectly fine any longer. She'd just replicated a new uniform, one size smaller. Her weight was the lowest it had been since her father and Justin died, and she had enough objectivity remaining to see _that_ wasn't good.   

The doctor continued to plague her on that score. He’d offered her an appetite stimulant, rather more forcefully than she liked. She’d refused, of course, and promised to eat. With that in mind, she tasted the Bolian stew. It wasn’t too offensive, so she managed two or three bites more before she pushed the plate away. 

There was no denying it: she was utterly miserable, and she didn't have a damn clue what to do about it, except put her head down and get on with the job of guiding _Voyager_ safely home. 


	12. Five Thousand Light-years Closer to Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager encounters a strange phenomenon that can get them closer to home. Janeway and Chakotay disagree about taking the risk of going through it.

Harry Kim was happy the captain and Commander Chakotay were back aboard _Voyager_ , but he wasn't at all happy that they didn't seem able to communicate in the easy way they had done before New Earth. Harry often wondered if he'd saved them from purgatory or dragged them away from paradise. I wasn’t as if they were much different on the bridge; they still made a strong command team. But the captain seemed to be slowly fading before his eyes and Chakotay had lost his easy smile.

A sensor on Harry's work station made a high warning chirrup that went  right through his head. He rubbed his temples, squinted and adjusted the phase variance to isolate the signal.

“Captain, I'm picking up an unusual configuration of tetryon particles, a fracture of some kind. It has some trans-dimensional qualities.”

The Captain’s voiced lowered and she shot a frown in Tuvok’s direction. “Trans-dimensional? It's not the mirror universe, is it?”

Tuvok tilted his head. “I do not believe so.”

Harry continued, “It’s more like a dimensional fracture, Captain. Space seems to be folded inside it.”

“Harry, launch a probe.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Harry’s sent the probe, and waited for the return signal. “Captain!” Harry’s heart leapt as he spoke. “Telemetry indicates this phenomenon emerges some five thousand light years closer to home.”

Tuvok scanned the anomaly. “I’m reading a highly concentration of neurogenic field.”

“Neurogenic?”

A flash of blue light leapt from Harry's console. He flung his hand to his head, reeling, and the world became fuzzy. He had to get a grip!

Harry straightened his back and focused on Captain Janeway as her voice faded and then became clearer. “It would be a challenge to navigate in there. Harry, do you think you can compensate for the dimensional distortion?”

Harry weighed the data from his console. “I think so, Captain.”

“Right. Take us in, Mr Paris.”

Harry blinked rapidly. No briefing? No input from the rest of the senior staff? Surely the captain wouldn't make a decision like this based on his word alone?

Harry shifted from foot to foot. “Ah, perhaps we should consider the effects of this neurogenic field on the crew?”

The captain raised her hand, almost casually. “If you say you can do it, that's good enough for me.”

Harry felt a flush of pride at her words. Of course she had faith in him. Why wouldn't she? He'd never let her down. He rapidly calculated the variance they needed to navigate safely through.

“Sending data to the helm now. I'll need to calculate new vectors as we proceed through the dimensional fracture.”

“Do it,” the captain said. Minutes passed. He recalculated twice and sent the data to Tom. Then the ship pitched hard starboard. The captain was flung sideways.

“Recalculate, Harry!” Tom yelled. “This data is off by point oh three degrees.”

Sweat formed on Harry's brow. The data was off? He checked again. He didn't understand. _Voyager_  bucked under his feet, alarms sounded. This time the captain was thrown right off her feet. His head throbbed. He just needed to finish...

Captain Janeway was at his side. “You told me you could do it, Harry,” she said, her voice low and dark.

His heart raced. “I’m almost there, Captain.”

The ship rattled around him. Tuvok’s console exploded, flinging the Vulcan back against the panels to his rear. He crumpled to the floor, a trickle of green blood running down his forehead.   

The captain staggered back to her chair. “Engineering, report.”  

B’Elanna’s voice was distorted by chaos in Engineering. “We’ve lost confinement,” she yelled. “There’s a power surge building in the warp core.”

“Do what you can, B’Elanna.” The Captain turned to Tom Paris. “Can you get us out on impulse power?”

He shook his head. “I’ll try. Although it would help if Harry’s calculations were accurate.”

Harry’s cheeks burned as Janeway’s gaze returned to him. He sent another set of spatial coordinates to the helm.

Tom battled with his controls. “Not helping!” he snapped. The ship jolted again. “You haven't accounted for gravimetric shear!”

“I…”

Janeway’s eyes scorched him. She shook her head. “I expected more of you, Harry.”

“I can fix this!” Harry yelled. The bulkhead exploded behind him, filling the bridge with choking, acrid smoke. The ship lunged wildly to one side. Tendrils of blue light arced from the instrument panels, as if reaching out for the crew. One enveloped Tuvok's prone body.

Commander Chakotay fell next, his head smashing against the floor as the energy encased him.  

“It's too late.” The captain said. “Cutting off my hair not enough for you, Ensign? You had to destroy my ship too?”

Harry stared in horror at his instruments. This was all his fault. He'd promised the captain he could get them safely through, but when it came down to it, he just wasn't good enough. It would have been easier if the captain’s eyes held anger, or even hate. But as her bridge burned around her she just looked... disappointed.

Then the blue light cracked from his console towards the captain, and hit her directly in the chest. Her uniform smouldered. Her body went rigid, her face grey. Then in front of Harry's horrified eyes, the light consumed her. Her skin charred and blistered, her hair burned. She didn't scream or cry out, she just fixed Harry with those blue, blue eyes and held him there, imprisoned in hell, until she crumpled at his feet.

Harry screamed, “No!”

Captain Janeway lay dead on her own bridge. Alarms raged all around. And it was _all his fault._

The computer’s voice sounded. “Warning. Structural integrity failing. Warp core breach in ten, nine, eight…”

_Voyager_ was dying around him.

Harry's anguish was total. There was nothing, nothing he could do. His captain, his friends, his _family_ , they had all relied on him. He’d killed them.

There was nothing left but to die. His console crackled with hypnotic blue light. He should put his hand into it, end the nightmare. He reached out slowly. His fingers were bathed in a blue glow. All he had to do was stretch a little further...

“Harry. Harry. Can you hear me?” The captain’s voice sounded far away.

His head spun. He couldn't breathe. He looked desperately around for the source of the sound, but his captain’s broken body remained unmoving on the deck.  

Yet he still heard her voice. “Harry. Stay with us,” she said urgently. He felt her hand on his arm. “Get him to sickbay.”

The world faded into a blur of lights and sounds. The smoke lingered longest, but finally that drifted away too.

Harry opened his eyes. He was in sickbay. The next thing he saw was Captain Janeway’s face.

He grabbed her hand. “Captain?”

“It's all right, Harry.”  

A little embarrassed, he let her go, but she put her hand on his shoulder, her touch accepting, reassuring. She wasn't dead, and _Voyager_ , clearly, remained intact.

The captain turned to the EMH. “Do we know what happened?”

“Somehow the discharge through the sensory array flooded his brain with neurogenic particles. For reasons I can't yet explain those particles massed in his hypothalamus, amygdala and hippocampus. Once they reached a critical density they evoked a sustained emotional schism, including vivid hallucinations. Probably tapping into some deeply held fear.”

“I let you down,” Harry said. “I told you I could get us through the dimensional fracture, but I was wrong. I destroyed _Voyager_.”

“No, you didn't. Trust me, we're not going anywhere until we understand this phenomenon a lot better.”  

#

Kathryn assembled the senior staff in the briefing room. There was no way she was going to easily give up on the opportunity to shorten their journey home. “I need ideas, people. How can we get _Voyager_ safely through this dimensional tear?”

B’Elanna spoke first. “We could reinforce structural integrity and boost power to the main deflector grid. That ought to reduce the impact of the gravimetric sheer. But we'll need to minimise the time we’re inside. It could get rough pretty fast.”

“I'm concerned about the impact the neurogenic field will have on the crew,” said the doctor.  

Kathryn turned her attention to the doctor. “Specifiy.”

The EMH indicated a scan of Harry's brain on the briefing room wall. “You can see the cluster of neurogenic molecules in Mr Kim's amygdala. That explains the fear-based nature of his experience. But you also see abnormally high activity in the temporal and frontal lobes. Captain, this phenomenon is extremely likely to produce intense visual, auditory, olfactory and tactile hallucinations. All based around people’s worst fears.”

Kathryn frowned. Harry was still in sickbay. He hadn’t wanted to speak to her in detail about what he’d experienced, but during her visit he looked deadly pale. Clearly it had been deeply distrurbing for him.

“Can we shield _Voyager,_ protect us from the effects?”

B’Elanna pulled her mouth into a doubtful half-smile. “We could try extending the transporter bio-filters into the shields around vital areas, the bridge and engineering, but the power drain would be enormous. I’m not sure how long we could sustain it.”   

Kathryn turned to the Doctor again. “Can you inoculate the crew?”

“Unlikely. Anything that protects the brain from these particles also halts pre-synaptic activity, which would be fatal. I could give people a mild sedative, but that would impair their ability to function.”

Kathryn surveyed her staff. They all wanted to make this work as much as she did. One big step closer to home for them. One step closer to that baby in the stasis tube for her, and Chakotay. “I want reports from all departments in two hours. Dismissed.”

The senior staff left, but Chakotay remained in his seat. Kathryn sat down again, across the table from him. “Something on your mind?”

“I think you’ve already made up yours.”

“And if I have?”

“Captain, think about what you'll be asking the crew to go through.”

“I expect some inventive solutions from our crew before we proceed. Anyway, the experience only lasted a few moments.”

“It didn't feel like a few moments to Harry. He watched you die.”

Kathryn raised a hand. “Unlike Harry, we'll go in forewarned. We can deal with these fears if we know about them.”

“You heard the doctor. Going into this fear dimension will generate life-like hallucinations based on everyone's worst nightmares. You're underestimating how difficult this will be.”

“And you're underestimating this crew’s resilience.”

Chakotay shook his head. “It's a huge risk.”

She stared at him. “Five thousand light years closer to home? I'd say it's a risk worth taking. And I think the crew agrees.”

He stood up, glowering over the table at her. “Just because you’re ready to face your worst fear doesn't mean everyone else on board can tolerate that level of psychological distress. The crew will have to live with what they see for a long time.”

“We all have our burdens,” she said softly, meeting his eyes. “Everyone of us. But we carry them so we can get home.”

His eyes darkened at the meaning laced into her words, echoing his own from New Earth. She wondered if she'd made a mistake letting this conversation drift into that murky space.  

He closed his eyes briefly, and drew in a breath. “I think you're wrong,” he said. He left before she could gather her wits and ask if he was still talking about this mission.

Kathryn watched him go. Regardless of what he meant by that remark, if there was a chance to cut years off their journey in exchange for a few fearful moments, then she’d be a fool not to take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm away on my holiday tomorrow, so I can't guarantee I'll be able to post a chapter next Friday, but i will make very effort to do so. If I don't manage it, i promise I'll get chapter 13 up by Friday 7th June.   
> Thanks to everyone who has continued reading and commenting. You make my day every time!! X


	13. Our Worst Fears.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager travels through a dimensional rift that amplifies the crew's worst fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning: depictions of character death*
> 
> In view of the fact that I missed my regular posting last week, I've delivered a bumper chapter with action, angst and smut all in one package!
> 
> Updates should resume on a weekly basis now. :)

Kathryn sat in the mess hall, quietly watching the crew, considering her options. She wasn’t comfortable with exposing the crew to their worst fears, and the doctor had only managed a partial solution. Non-essentail personel were to be sedated and remain in their quarters, which would dampen, but not entirely prevent, the worst of the effects of the neurogenic field. Everyone else would have to ride the storm. This wouldn’t be like fighting a battle together as a Starfleet crew. Everyone would be alone in their intensely personal brand of hell.

Crewman Chell approached her table. “Excuse me, Captain. May I sit down?”

“Of course. What’s on your mind, Mr Chell?”

It was unusual, but not unheard of for the crew to approach her directly. More often they would go to Chakotay, and Kathryn wondered what was different this time.

Chell spoke deliberately slowly. “Captain, some of us, that is, a number of the crew, have been talking about this neurogenic phenomenon. We want you to know that if you decide to take us through, well, the crew is behind you.”

Kathryn sighed. “I hate to ask it of you.”

Chell grimaced. “The Cardassians took my home, and almost my whole family. Just my youngest sister left alive because she was being treated in an off-world facility for a rare bone marrow disorder. For the past three years I guess she’s been thinking she’s alone. I’d like the chance to show her that’s not true, and if this thing can get us five thousand light years closer to her, then I’m prepared to risk my worst fears. We all are.”

Kathryn touched his hand briefly. “Thank you, Chell. I appreciate you telling me that.”

Chell lowered his head slightly, and then stood up.

“Mr Chell, did you discuss this with Commander Chakotay?”

“Yes. He encouraged me to come direct to you.”

Kathryn felt her heart clench. Chakotay. Always making her burdens lighter, even when he didn’t agree with her choices. Even when she didn’t deserve his kindness, he still walked alongside her. Damn it! It physically _hurt_ to be reminded that she lied to him every day, about the baby. About her feelings. If they could get closer to home with a few more lucky breaks like this one, then maybe things could be different.

It took three more hours to prepare the ship and crew to pass through the dimensional rift.

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay once. “Are we set to go, Commander?”

“Aye, Captain. All departments have checked in.”

Kathryn turned to Harry, who was back at his station now. “Mr Kim, are you sure you don’t want to sit this one out? No one will think any the less of you.”

“No, Captain. I’m all right.”

Kathryn nodded, and then opened a ship wide channel. “This is the captain. We’re about to enter the dimensional rift. This phenomenon is capable of bringing us five thousand light-years closer to our homes and families. We’ve enhanced _Voyager_ ’s shields, but many of you will be exposed to neurogenic pulses with the potential to cause hallucinations. If you’re affected then you need to remember that although if feels very real, it’s all happening in your mind, and fight it. I know you can. Each and every one of you. See you on the other side.”

B'Elanna's voice came through comms. “Captain, I can give you five minutes, maybe six, of protection using the boosted neurogenic filter. After that we’ll need all the power we've got not to fly apart.”

“All right, B'Elanna.” Kathryn glanced at Chakotay. She knew that look. It was the one he wore when he disapproved of her decisions but nevertheless was prepared to stand by her side.

Kathryn looked ahead, avoiding Chakotay’s gaze. “Take us in, Mr Paris. Warp three.”

Tom eased _Voyager_ into the dimensional fracture. At first the ship moved easily, as if cruising through subspace on a quiet day. Then the engines changed rhythm, making the vibrations she was so attuned to shift in her chest. A second later the ship lurched violently to the left, throwing Kathryn across the bridge and hard to the floor. She leapt to her feet.

“Report.”

“The modified shields are holding for now,” B’Elanna said, “But we’re pushing the power relays to the limit.”

“There is higher than anticipated stress on the structural integrity field.” Tuvok was obliged to shout over the noise of the straining engines and rattling bulkheads.

“Can you boost power to the deflector grid?” Kathryn yelled.

“I am attempting to do so,” Tuvok called back.

“Captain!” Tom called. “I’m losing navigational control.”  

On the viewscreen, blue- white light cracked in distorted fractals around them, fast and dizzying as they moved through the dimensional fracture. _Voyager_ shuddered, as it might pushing the engines at warp nine, not the steady warp three they were currently travelling at. Looking at the view screen made her feel sick, so Kathryn kept her eye on Harry instead. The young ensign stood calmly at his workstation, thankfully, with no indication he’d begun to hallucinate again.

Harry glanced up to meet her eye. “We’re almost through.”

A blue light intensified, filling the viewscreen, crackling and phasing like a kaleidoscope spinning out of control. The screen bloomed blue, suddenly becoming a raging storm. Kathryn threw her arm up to protect her face. Her ears buzzed. As she opened her eyes, there was a shift in the thrum on the bridge, as if ship’s engines had slowed, and the viewscreen coalesced into normal space.  

Kathryn gasped, holding tight to the back of Tom’s chair until dizziness subsided. She turned to face Harry. “Report?”

Harry frowned. “That can't be right.”

In a low voice she said, “Where are we Harrý?”

“We've travelled fifty thousand light years, not five.” But Harry's face wasn't elated. Far from it. His eyes were blank. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak.

“What is it?”

“Fifty thousand lightyears... in the wrong direction.”

“How is that possible?” Tom demanded.

Kathryn’s world spun. Her head pounded, and she looked at Chakotay for support, waiting for that glance that always reassured her that however bad a situation was, they would get through it.

His eyes were cold. “You've made the wrong choice, Kathryn,” Chakotay said, his tone dark and accusing. “You _keep_ making the wrong choices.”

“No. This isn't right,” she said, staggering. It couldn't be true. She searched desperately for a way to decide if what she was hearing was real.

Harry looked up at her. “I'm reading six heavily armed Kazon war ships on long range sensors.”

“Red alert,” she snapped. Kathryn pinched the back of her hand, but the scene on the viewscreen didn’t fade. Nothing made sense.

Then the world split and shifted, and she was on a Kazon vessel. Harry Kim and Chakotay were on their knees in front of her, heads bowed, hands bound behind their backs.

“Choose,” spat an angry Kazon. “Which one, Captain? Who will you save? The one admires you so, or the man who shared your bed and fathered your child?”

How did she get here? This was all in her head. It had to be, because no one but the doctor knew about the child, and certainly not a Kazon Maje. But even so, her emotions threatened to swamp her. Her heart was pounding. She felt light headed. She had to find a way calm down.

“This isn't real,” she said slowly, steadying her breath. “I need to get out of my head and back to my ship.”

“Really, Kathryn. Just because it's happening inside your head doesn't mean it isn't true,” the Kazon said. He gripped her arm painfully tight. “Now choose!”

She shook her head. She wouldn’t play these games. “I can't do that. I won’t!”

“Very well.” The Maje smiled cruelly. “Then you lose both.” He stepped behind Harry, and in one swipe drew a knife across his throat. Before Harry's body even hit the floor the Maje turned the knife on Chakotay. He sputtered, a look of shock and reproach on his face. The Maje withdrew the knife from his chest with a sickening smile.

“No!” Anguished, Kathryn sunk to her knees. She felt her own chest pierced, her own soul break as she pulled Chakotay’s body onto her lap, hands desperately trying to stop the red flood.

His eyes were pleading. “All I ever wanted was to love you, Kathryn.”

“No. No, stay with me,” she begged.

“I wanted to. But you pushed me away.” His voice became faint, the light in his eyes fading.

She took his hand. She had to speak. About how she felt. About their _child_. “Please. Don’t die. I have to tell you—”

“About our child? You should have told me right from the start. I'll never forgive you for keeping her from me.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, holding him, desperately willing him to hang on. But the light seeped from his eyes and his body became limp.

Somewhere, at the back of her mind a voice screamed that it wasn't real. But she couldn't tear her eyes away. Her tears fell onto Chakotay’s face.

“Ah, the finale,” the Kazon said. He nodded at a view screen. “Your precious ship.”

 _Voyager’s_ curves began to buckle and warp, and then the hull fractured, ripping the saucer section from the warp nacelles, sending fragments of hull plating, the navigation beacon, the sensory array, all spinning wildly into space.

Kathryn watched, unable to breathe, to think. Her heart stopped in her chest, tight and painful.

Then the hull pulled apart, exposing _Voyager’s_ tritanium skeleton. There would be flesh and blood in the hellish mix of the ships remains. _Her crew._ Their last screams left their lungs as she watched _Voyager’s_ death throes, their skin burned by the first frozen breath of space.

Kathryn couldn’t move or tear her eyes away. It was over. _Voyager_ was nothing but fragments, a field of debris in the Delta Quadrant. She should have died with her crew. Chakotay lay dead in her arms, his blood thick and sticky on her hands.

There was nothing left but to let go. Be with him. Perhaps, if she wished hard enough, she could capture New Earth in her dying breath. See Chakotay’s smiling face again. Lay together in their bed, in their small cabin, when the sun would kiss them awake and the trees sing them to sleep. A blue light called her, shining in the distance, the sounds of that never-forgotten place filtering through the horror. It would be so easy to step towards the light.        

The Kazon laughed a jolting, harsh laugh.

This was wrong. So very wrong. She had to fight it, but she didn’t know how. She looked down at Chakotay.

He needed her.

He _wasn’t_ dead in her arms, she had to believe that. He was on the bridge, waiting beside her. They all were. Her crew. They needed their captain, and she was damned if she’d leave them to face this alone.  

Kathryn stood up and raised her chin. “I am Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation Starship _Voyager_ , and I am going back there!”

Her heart roared. Pulsing lights surrounded her. The stink of the Kazon vessel lingered, but when her head cleared her own bridge was intact.

Harry and Tuvok were awake, Tom was bleary-eyed and pale, but Chakotay was slumped on the floor.

“Report,” Kathryn said, as she crouched by Chakotay’s side, checking his pulse. It was weak.  

“We’ve cleared the dimensional fracture, Captain.” Tuvok said. “We have lost warp engines. Hull breaches on decks ten through twelve. Casualties reports are coming in, mainly from falls due to loss of consciousness while we were inside fractured space.”

Kathryn glanced at Harry. “Where are we?”

“Right where we hoped to be. Five thousand lightyears closer to home.”

Kathryn had only a moment of satisfaction at the news before Chakotay began to convulse. His eyes rolled back into his head.

Kathryn hit her comms, her stomach tight with fear. “Medical emergency on the bridge.”

#

Chakotay shook his head at the scene before him. He’d been on _Voyager’s_ bridge when he’d noticed the blue light, felt the swim of the transition into the dimensional field. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be sucked into an hallucination, though.

“I know this is my fear. None of it is real,” he said.

Kathryn looked at him. “Is it? Seems pretty real to me.”

“Neurogenic particles. We’ll exit the dimensional fracture any minute now, and I’ll be right back where I should be.” He felt rather smug. Holding onto his rational mind was easier than he’d anticipated.

She smiled, devastatingly, crossing her legs as she sat in her command chair. “Then you won’t mind if we chat?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re not really Kathryn.”

“Well you see, Commander, I think you’ll find _you're_ the one who doesn’t matter.”

He refused to even look at this fake Kathryn.

“All that time on New Earth. You know why I kept you away for so long?” she said, running her finger across the front of his uniform. “I was afraid you’d be a disappointment. And I was right. I was just too kind to tell you.”

“That’s rubbish,” he snapped. “Kathryn loved me. I believe she still does.”

Kathryn roared with laughter. “Oh, Chakotay. You think I love you? You were an interesting diversion. Nothing more. I don’t need _you_. I have everything I need right here.” She waved a hand around her bridge. “I have a ship, a fine crew.” She leaned forward and looked him direct in the eye. “If I really cared about you, don’t you think I’d find a way for us to be together?” She stood up with her hands on her hips, and laughed.

Anger boiled inside him, despite his rational brain screaming that none of this was real. His head pounded. He made fists and tried to walk across the bridge towards the turbo lift, but in a blink she was in front of him.

“Let me leave,” he spat.

“You don’t give me orders,” she said, throwing her head back in contempt.

He turned away again.

She appeared in front of him. “I push you away. Betray your love. And I’ll do it again and again and again.”

“If you think that makes a difference, then you don't know me.”

Kathryn leaned against Tom’s chair, looking at the helmsman seductively. Then she turned to back to Chakotay with a wicked smile. “You know, Tom has an eye for the ladies. He's rather handsome, don't you think?”

“You’re not real. Kathryn would never—”

“Oh, but wouldn’t she?” She stepped forward and whispered in his ear. “She screwed you. What’s to stop her wanting more?” She turned back to Tom, and ran her hand over his cheek. Her voice was low and sultry. “What do you say, Tom? Perhaps the commander would like to watch. Or maybe join us?”

Chakotay's world went to hell.  

Fury welled in his chest, and something else. A sordid kind of arousal built in his belly. He hated that her words turned him on, but he just couldn't unsee her sultry smile and Tom’s leer, and the ugly image of them together.

He wouldn't really share her. Never! This wasn't his Kathryn. This abomination was dredged from a dark pit in his mind, not a place he would ever willingly let into the light. He had to purge it.

The gloating image of Janeway just laughed at his distress. “What’s wrong, Chakotay? Doesn’t this fit with your lily-white memories of dear Kathryn? You know, she was only just getting started on New Earth. She's got so much more of her sexuality to explore. Just not with _you_.”    

Red mist blurred his vision. He had to make it stop, this travesty, this vile mockery of everything he and Kathryn were. Before he knew it, his hands were clenched around the imposter’s perfect throat.

Her eyes locked with his. Her mouth opened, her lips quivering. He couldn’t let go. He felt her soft flesh yield under his fingers and the cartilage of her windpipe grinding against his thumbs. She gasped for breath, her eyes bulging.

He was choking the woman he loved more than life itself.

“You're hurting me, Chakotay,” she whispered. “But I deserve it.” Her legs buckled.

“Kathryn!” His anguish was total, and he fell to his knees, sobbing, holding her limp body in his arms.

Her voice was dry as tinder, cracking and breaking. “I’m sorry, Chakotay,” she whispered, “for all the lies.”

#

In sickbay, Kathryn was at Chakotay’s side.

“Neuro-stimulator,” the doctor said. Then, “Fifty ccs of thoracetrazine.”

Kathryn filled the hypospray and ran to the doctor with it, her heart beating wildly. “Can you stablise him?”

The doctor looked grave. “Time will tell.”

Later, as Chakotay lay still, Kathryn wanted to tear her heart in two. She had to put her people and her ship back together; half her staff were hurt in one way or another, she was needed in engineering, more repair teams had to be dispatched, and there were a million decisions to make. When all she really wanted to do was hold Chakotay’s hand and wait right by his side. That was the impossibility of it. She was the captain first. She had to be.

The doctor, in a surprising show of sensitivity, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I'll notify you the moment there's a change. Night or day.”

She nodded briskly, because she didn't dare speak, and after talking quietly to the smattering of injured crewmen still in sickbay, she left.  

By the end of her shift, after they had begun running repairs and set a course towards an uninhabited M class planet to put down to do a more substantive overhaul job—two weeks by B’Elanna’s estimations—Kathryn returned to sickbay.

The doctor was at Chakotay's side, frowning.

“Any change?”

“None. And I'm not certain why.”

“Is he still trapped in that place?” The horrifying thought that he might still be experiencing his worst fears left Kathryn appalled.

“Not exactly. His frontal lobes are indicative of a coma, but there is a higher rate of neurogenesis than normal in his hippocampus.” He offered a reassuring smile. “Time is our friend here. I’ll monitor him closely.”

“Can he hear us?”

“Possibly. I'd say talking to him could do no harm, and may help.”

So Kathryn did talk to him. Every morning before her shift began she told him her plans for the day. Each evening she ate sparsely and returned to his side.

Chakotay lay still, as if he were asleep, when she entered sickbay. His regal face was calm and peaceful. Kathryn pulled the chair she’d sat on every day for the past week up closer to the biobed's side.

“B'Elanna got the warp engines back on line. We’re making good progress on the hull. She thinks we'll finish a little ahead of her two week estimate.” She stood up and rearranged the blanket covering him. A needless gesture, but at least it made her feel like she was doing something. She took his hand. “I'll be needing my first officer back. If we're going to break orbit there's shift patterns to arrange, the duty roster to set up. You’re so much better at that than I am.”

Kathryn became aware of the doctor at her side.

“Captain, if I may say so, you've told him a lot about what's going on with _Voyager_ , and why this ship needs a first officer. Perhaps he needs more to come back to than duty.”

Kathryn closed her eyes. Maybe the doctor was right.

She was denying her feelings and keeping a secret from him that he had every right to know. Their child, a five week old embryo, but still their child, was in a stasis tube a few meters from here. How could she hide it from him? But how could she tell him? If she opened that door in her heart then she feared the consequences for both of them. And their crew. Much as she wanted to, could she really offer Chakotay more? She didn't know, even now, if she could. But she had to do better than this!  Frustration burned her throat. What had he done, when he couldn't find words to express his feelings? When he was afraid of saying too much, but couldn't say nothing at all?

He'd told her a beautiful story.

The next evening she strode to sickbay with a PADD tucked under her arm. She’d brought the PADD back from New Earth, but never continued the story that she’d begun reading during those idyllic days.

She paused by his side. “I still haven't finished _Searider Falcon_. I couldn't bear to. I suppose I was clinging onto our life on New Earth, trying to make it last forever.” She sat down. I thought maybe we could enjoy it together.” Kathryn settled down and began to read.

#

Chakotay was floating inside empty spaces. Days meant nothing as he drifted in and out of his watery home, letting himself be carried by the tides of time. He didn't mind. It was easy here. He barely had to think or feel. Occasionally lights flickered, or fragments of sound filtered through from another world. The doctor’s voice. Kathryn's. That pleased him for a moment, then his hands twitched, and a pain shot from his fingertips direct to his heart. He covered his ears, and the soothing emptiness returned.

Later he realised the empty spaces were inside him. The places where he kept things he once cared about. His home. His family. The Maquis.  _Voyager_.

Kathryn.

Things he couldn't have back. It made him sad.

But, her voice asked him to come back. _Voyager_ needed him. For a flash he considered returning, but instead he let himself sink into the cotton wool of his brain. It was better this way. _Voyager_ would adapt and go on without him.

He would feel the press of a hypospray to his neck. Voices. Then _nothing, nothing, nothing._ It felt safe.

Again, voices. Something ghosted over his heart, a tug pulling him.

Kathryn's voice. It sounded raw to his ears.

He didn't even want to hear it. Not after what he'd done. He’d violated her trust and squeezed the life from her with his own hands. How could he look at her again? She didn't need him, anyway. She had her ship and her crew.

Something told him, faintly, that he should care about _Voyager_. He had a duty to the ship and crew.

He wasn't afraid of dying. He courted death, invited it even, when, with his eyes still misted with rage, he’d joined the Maquis. He hadn't known peace for years, not until the moment he took his seat on _Voyager’s_ bridge beside Kathryn. She had no way of knowing he wouldn't betray her and build a mutiny right under her nose, but she’d been willing to take the risk and trust him. She’d looked at him with those blue eyes and a half smile, and he’d known. This was his life now, his primary mission: to stand by her side and get their people home.

He shouldn't leave them. He shouldn't leave _her_ to carry that burden alone. His body became heavy. He began to sink.

Kathryn’s voice became softer, like a song in his sorrow. “I'm getting to the part I haven't read, Chatokay.”

He felt her touch whisper across his skin. She had been reading from that book that she started on New Earth, he realised. _Searider Falcon._

Maybe she hadn't given up on them after all.

The current sought to sweep him into the swirling deep waters, Kathryn at his side. If he could just reach her, then maybe he could save them both. He focused on the sound of her voice as she read from the book she’d told him she never wanted to finish.  

_“The raft was not as seaworthy as I’d hoped. The waves repeatedly threatened to swamp it. I wasn’t afraid to die. I was afraid of the emptiness that I felt inside. I couldn’t feel anything. And that’s what scared me. You came into my thoughts. You filled them. I felt good._ _”_

#

Kathryn glanced up from the PADD as Chakotay’s breathing changed. “Doctor,” she called. She grabbed Chakotay’s big hand with both of hers. “Come back, Chakotay. It’s time to come home.”

His eyes flickered, and for a terrible moment she thought he would begin to convulse again.

He coughed and spluttered like a drowning man. “Kathryn?”

“I’m here. Hold on,” she said.

His breathing steadied, and as the doctor fussed around him, Chakotay opened his eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I would never hurt you.” He looked every bit as broken as he had on New Earth the night they got the message _Voyager_ was returning.  

“I don't know what you saw, Chakotay, but I promise you didn’t hurt me.”

Compulsively, she touched his face, and he captured her hand with his, pressing her palm tight against his cheek. Then he turned her hand over and kissed it. The intimacy of the gesture almost made her want to cry.   

She wanted so much to kiss him, to breathe tender words of love and surrender in his ear, but that would spell disaster. Instead, she took his hand in hers and held it for a few moments longer, before she stepped back and gave the doctor space to work.

#    

After the doctor released him from sickbay, Chakotay sat in his room, alone, in darkness. How could he face Kathryn after what he’d done? Of course she had no clue what he’d experienced in the dimensional fracture, and he intended to keep it that way. It had almost been a relief when she had left. That had been three days ago, and he hadn’t faced her since.

His door chimed. Listlessly, he called, “Come in.”

B'Elanna paused momentarily on the threshold, and then stepped through, letting her eyes roam around his quarters as if she didn't quite know where to start.

He gestured for her to take a seat. “What can I do for you?”

“A lot of the crew are talking about how rough that was going through the dimensional fracture. People saw some terrible things.”

“I’m sure they'll support each other,” he said, unsure where this conversation was going.    

She sat on the edge of his sofa. “They _are_. People are talking to one another, spending time together. Helping each other through it. It's been a pleasant surprise, actually.” B'Elanna smiled, nodding, lost in some internal reverie. Then her eyes searched out Chakotay's. “How are you doing? Because you've been holed up in here since the doctor released you from sickbay. People have noticed.”

“Oh? And he sent you to talk to me, I suppose?”

“Something like that. Chakotay, what did you see in there?”

He looked away and shook his head.

“Look, even I have faced up to the fact that I can't do everything alone. We're here for you,” B’Elanna said.

“I'm dealing with it.” It was a lie, but if he said it often enough perhaps it would become the truth. Maybe, over time, he’d forget how Kathryn looked as he squeezed the life from her. He closed his eyes in an effort to banish the terrible images.

B’Elanna snorted. “On your own? Stuck here in your quarters? It doesn't look like dealing with it to me.”

“B'Elanna, don't push.”

She gave no quarter. “It's not like you to run away.”

Anger simmered in his chest. “There's nowhere to run, B'Elanna. Not from this.”

“Look, you don't have to talk to me, but I think you should talk to someone.” B'Elanna took in a breath, as if she was bracing herself. “The captain…”

He looked up sharply. “What about the captain?”

“Maybe you two should talk to each other. She's been shutting herself off for a while, you know she has.”

He stared ahead, not really knowing how to respond. In the end he filled the silence.  “She won't talk to me, B'Elanna.”

“Are you sure about that? She hardly left your side while you were in sickbay.”

“Really?” He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. Kathryn had been there when he woke, but she’d left soon after. He’d thought he was the last person she'd want to talk to.

“She was there for hours. Every day. Talking to you. Reading you a book.”

“I remember,” he said with a jolt.

B'Elanna stood up, sighing. “Personally, I'd like to knock both your heads together, but I'm pretty sure that would land me in the brig. We've got forty-eight hours before we break orbit.” She lowered her voice, and placed a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Use them wisely.”

B'Elanna’s visit left him angry, not because she'd been out of line, but because she’d spoken the truth. He needed to face Kathryn. It would be no good if they met for the first time on the bridge and he was blindsided by the blistering memory of his hands around her throat. No matter how many times he’d told himself it didn't happen, he still woke in the night in a cold sweat. If nothing else, he had to purge himself of those terrible memories, and offer Kathryn the chance to do the same.   

#

Kathryn had fled sickbay once she was sure Chakotay was out of danger. As he’d kissed her hand and said her name, she'd been moments from cracking, so she ran. Not exactly her finest hour.

For the past three days he'd barely left his quarters. She knew, because she checked. He was keeping out of her way, and who could blame him? She'd put the crew through hell, but he’d suffered more than anyone. She could only imagine what he went through. If it was anything like the terrible scenes she'd witnessed, then he had every reason to take time to lick his wounds.

One of these days, though, she'd push him away and he wouldn't come back. That thought speared her heart. She’d searched her soul a thousand times to seek a way for them to comfort one another without unravelling _Voyager_. She wanted to feel close to him again. She missed him. Not just the sex but the sense of intimacy, that feeling that he had her back, no matter what. Chatting about their day. Breakfast together.  

But how could she have that feeling and still keep her guilty secret? And if she told him about the baby in the stasis tube, what then? Would he hate that she'd kept it from her? Or press her for a decision she couldn't take? Would their conflicting wants become a worse source of disagreement and tension? She’d already put him through enough. She couldn't put him through that too.  

That's why she’d left sickbay in such a hurry. Not because she didn't care about his feelings. Because she cared too much.

Her doorbell chimed. She took a breath, at once hoping it would be him and fearing it would not be.

“Come in,” she said.

Chakotay hesitated at the doorway.

Her throat felt dry and tight. “I’m glad you came. We probably need to talk.”

He pressed his lips together, resolutely, as if he'd come prepared to face another rejection.

Suddenly Kathryn couldn’t face his pain, her feelings, none of it. So she did what she always did. Took refuge behind the captain. “The doctor tells me the crew are supporting one another through the difficulties they experienced inside the dimensional fracture.”

His eyes flashed, and she wondered if the moment had come when she’d pushed him away once too often.

He walked slowly across her quarters, and then turned to face her. “With some notable exceptions.”

“Oh?”

“B'Elanna paid me a visit. She thinks I need to talk about what I saw.”

“Maybe she’s right.”

“No, she isn’t.” He spoke with finality. Then he sighed. “What I experienced was difficult. I need… I need look you in the eye and find a way to put it behind me.” The raw honesty in his expression hit her like a wave. He wasn’t asking her for anything, not blaming her, not burdening her with his pain, not even seeking the comfort he surely needed.

She hated herself for hurting him. She loathed that she felt like she couldn't breathe without him. “I'm sorry I put you through this.”

“I don’t blame you, Kathryn. You did what you always do: held your nerve. You got us five thousand lightyears closer to home.”

She looked up and met his eyes. “And every time you forgive me for the things I put you through.”

“When I told you I’d carry your burdens, I meant it. Always. If you want to tell me what you saw, I’ll listen. We never have to speak of it again after today, if that’s what you need. Then we can go back on duty, and carry on.”

Kathryn almost choked, raising a hand to her chest. “After everything, you still care enough to offer? You should resent me. Hate me, even.” She reached a hand out, stopping just short of his chest, her soul tormented. How could she tell him even a fraction of what was in her heart?

“Kathryn,” he whispered, “I love you. I haven’t stopped.” His face, so beloved, so handsome, didn’t crack or falter. He was strong, so much stronger than she was when it came to their relationship. Perfectly prepared to step away as she asked, yet willing to tell her he still loved her. He had a grace and dignity she could never match.    

She bit her lip, her eyes hot with unshed tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

He caught her arm. “Kathryn,” he whispered, “I’m exactly what you deserve.” It was as if he could see into her mind, feel her heart racing, see her very soul.

His fingers were hot on her arm. In a moment, he would let go, she was sure of it. Yet the seconds ticked on, and he was burning her with his eyes, willing her—daring her— to seize this moment. She hadn't forgotten how his lips tasted, or how the solid muscle of his chest felt under her fingertips, how his tongue drove her wild, or the ecstasy of his body moving in time with hers. Memories of those months on New Earth exploring each other so intimately flooded her senses, and she moaned through parted lips, helplessly, just like she had those nights when she’d fallen apart in his arms.

The whole universe demanded she answer this call.

Her resolution broke.

She kissed him, hard, pressing herself to him with a need so powerful it shocked her, telegraphing her desire with her body, her hands, her tongue. “I want things to be different between us,” she said when the kiss broke.

He didn’t speak, he just pulled her to his chest, fire in his eyes, the warrior roused.

He kissed her again, soundly, thoroughly.

Her head spun. “We’ll have to be discrete,” she said, breathless.

“Agreed.”

She gabbled on. “We can't let this interfere with our duty—”

“Damn it, Kathryn, stop talking.” He kissed her again, and she did stop talking, giving herself over to the sensations she’d thought she could live without. She’d been wrong.

He took her hand and led her to her bedroom, gently guiding her to sit at the end of her own bed. He let his fingers run across her command pips. “Remember when I pinned these on you?” He asked, standing in front of her. “That morning on New Earth before _Voyager_ came back? If I swear I’ll return them whenever _Voyager_ needs its captain, will you let me take them off?”

Her heart raced. “Yes.”

One by one, he took those small symbols of command and held them in his palm. He glanced at the table beside her bed, and smiled, walking over to lift the lid of the carved redwood box sitting there. He placed the pips inside, and then turned back towards her.

“I hope that isn’t all you’re planning to take off,” she said over her shoulder, her voice deliberately low and husky.

“I’m just getting started.” He kicked off his boots and sat on the bed beside her. She felt the weight on the bed shift, saw his uniform top hit the floor, and then felt him tugging at her own top, and then her grey tank, until they ended up on the floor along with his.

He moved her hair aside and then put his hands firmly on her shoulders, and began to probe the muscles in her neck with his thumbs. She groaned at the exquisite sensations, her blood pumping, her core tingling in anticipation.

“Do you remember me doing this on New Earth? I think it was the first time I really touched you.”

“You were so patient that night. So kind.”

“You think so?” he said into her ear. “Do you know what I really wanted to do?” He ran his hands over her shoulders, kneading her muscles. “I wanted to touch your skin. To kiss your neck.” His bare chest pressed to her back as he leaned closer. “Most of all,” he said, his words hot in her ear, as he ghosted his fingers across her ribs, and round towards her stomach. “I wanted you to want that too.”

“I did,’ she said, with her eyes closed. “I just couldn't see it clearly.”

She sighed as his hands traversed her hips, along her spine, and gently released her bra strap. She let her head fall back as he tossed the garment aside and enclosed her breasts in his hands.

“I wanted to do this.” He kissed her neck. “Maybe things can't be the same as they were on New Earth. But we can still be good together.”

She wanted to believe it more than anything. Needed to, right then. Her throat was tight as she took off her remaining clothes and sat back on the bed and watched as he did the same.    

He stood gloriously naked in front of her, reached down to where she sat and worked his fingers between her legs to tease her sensitive nub. “You remember this?”

She took a sharp breath. “I haven't forgotten how good you were, Chakotay.” She arched her spine and leaned back on her arms as he teased her folds with his fingers. He rubbed in small circles, and eased two fingers inside her until her breath came in short frantic gasps. She flung her head back and let the wave of pleasure crash over her.

When her senses returned, she kissed him full on the lips and turned him around, decisively, to press him to the bed beside her. She kissed him relentlessly. She eased his foreskin back and forward slowly until he groaned, urging her on.

She licked her lips. She wanted to taste him, remember what it felt like to take him deep into her throat, and hear those sounds of desperate pleasure he made.

She kissed his tip, and then looked up along his torso with a wicked smile. “You still like this, hmm?”

He just groaned and closed his eyes. She took him in her mouth, easing him into her throat, past her gag reflex, taking him as deeply as she could.

“I won’t last long like that,” he warned, his voice strained.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she said, and then squeezing his shaft tightly, before plunging him back deeply into her mouth. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked him hard, until his breathing became ragged.

He snatched a breath. “Believe me, I love coming in your mouth. But I need something else right now.”

“Of course,” she said, looking up at him. “Anything, anything you want. Just tell me. I won't be shocked.” At that moment she'd gladly give him all her body could bear, and more, if it was the price of her penance and the cost of his forgiveness.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her up across his body. “I want to kiss you and see your face, that's all.”

“Oh,” she said, settling herself on top of him, rubbing her hot core against him.

He raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I wanted?”

Kathryn laughed softly, as she slid his length inside her, and began to rock. “That’s a conversation for a different day. Right now, this is perfect.”

A small part of her wondered how she could keep the command structure intact, not to mention her secret in sickbay, when her resolve was fractured and her heart vulnerable. But those deceptions seemed less important than how _good_ it felt to be with him again, how the rising heat in her belly swept her away, and how his features pulled into a strained, desperate grimace. As he spilled inside her, and she tipped into a shattering, glorious orgasm, the lies didn't seem to matter at all.     

**#**

Chakotay didn't mention he'd noticed the weight Kathryn had lost, or the strange shadow of guilt on her face. He hoped, as he got up early to fix her breakfast, that he could cure both those maladies with a bit of time and a lot of love.

She emerged from her bedroom wearing a peach satin dressing gown, and put her hand lightly on his shoulder. “Hmmm, danea berries and coffee. Just like in our little cabin. You're spoiling me.” She sat down opposite him, relaxed, with a satisfied smile curling the edge of her mouth. “I could get used to this.”

He hid a flush of relief. Hurdle one cleared: she hadn't immediately changed her mind. “I hope you will. But we need to figure a few things out.”

Her face became serious. “Like how to stop the crew finding out we’re having sex again?”

He coughed. “As far as I’m aware, they never knew we were having sex before, but yes.” He leaned forward. “We need to show them that we’re back on the same page—”

“—but not sharing the same sheets,” she finished for him.

“Maybe we should...”

“Define the parameters?”

They both laughed, and things between them felt easy again for the first time in months.

“All right,” she said. “Our personal relationship stays in our quarters. No fumbling around in my ready room.”

“Or my office.”

“Or the holodeck.”

He twitched his nose to signal disappointment, and gave a theatrical sigh. “Agreed.” Then he added, “No more avoiding each other at social occasions.”

“Right. I'm sorry that happened.”

He raised a finger. “No more apologising for past mistakes.”

“I'll save the apologies for my next batch of mistakes,” she said dryly, tapping her fingers on the table. “Maybe I should just issue a standing apology…”

He scooped his arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “No. I'm looking forward to the next time you have to make it up to me.”

Her face dropped a little, her eyes drifting. She sighed. “People will soon notice if we start spending the night in each other's quarters. Perhaps we shouldn’t do this too often.”

He felt doubts already tugging at her, and thought quickly. “It wouldn't be too difficult to set up an off-grid site-to-site transporter.”

She raised an eyebrow. “B’Elanna would notice the power usage. So would Tuvok.”

“Ah, I’m sure we could figure out a way around that. I hear the captain knows the command codes,” he said.

She twitched her lip, deep in thought at the technical challenge. “It might be possible.”

“Kathryn,” he said, pulling her down for a kiss, “anything is possible if you want it enough.”

 

 


	14. Every Lie Carries a Burden of Debt to the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the period of time depicted in seasons three, four and the first episode of season five, Night.  
> Chakotay and Kathryn's relationship is both beautiful and complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With huge thanks to @calandeniablue who has been invaluable in helping me improve this chapter!

Chakotay didn’t expect Kathryn to find a solution to the problem of concealing their relationship from the crew quite as quickly as she did. But as with everything, once she’d made up her mind, she applied herself diligently to the issue at hand.

Four days after their reunion Chakotay arrived for a ‘working’ dinner, with a pile of PADDS he had no intention of looking at tucked under his arm. She was staring at the wall separating their quarters.

He put the PADDS on her desk and joined her. “Kathryn?”

“If we cut through here,” she said, “we could create a doorway.”

“Wouldn’t the computer send Tuvok an unauthorised structural alteration report?”

“Not if it _had_ been authorised. By me.” She grinned.

He grinned too. “We’d need a way of covering it, from both sides. In case of visitors.”

“Hmmm, I think wall drapes would do it. Perhaps those gifts from the Artarian delegation that are still in cargo bay two?”

He reached past her to tap the wall over her shoulder, deliberately leaning in close as he did so. “I could do it first thing tomorrow. Think the captain would give me the morning off?” He kissed her neck by way of inducement.

“I’m sure she could be persuaded.” Kathryn turned around in his arms with a sultry smile. “Don’t think this is an open invitation to come in here and make love to me any time you choose.” She reached up and kissed him, and just to reinforce her point she started to manoeuvre him towards her bedroom.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll only make love to you with your specific instructions.” He resisted her attempts to move. “Anyway, we’re eating first.”

“You’re making me wait?” she said, pouting in a most uncaptain-like manner, which made his heart swell and his stomach flutter. But the sharp edges of her collar bone, and the protrusion of her hips against his when she had laid naked beneath him convinced him she needed food more than she needed sex. Not that he had any intention of telling _her_ that.

“Sorry, but I’m starving. I can’t perform on an empty stomach.”

“Far be it from me to come between a man and his dinner,” she said affably, and opened her palm towards the replicator.

His lip twitched into a smile, and with a spring in his step, he set about organising their meal.      

#

Later, Chakotay woke with a start, jerking upright, his naked chest slick with sweat.

“Chakotay.” Kathryn’s voice was soothing in the darkness, her hands calming on his back as she sat up beside him. “You were dreaming again.”

He didn't know which disturbed him more: the way his dreams created a sordid image of Kathryn and Paris together, how that morphed into the terrible feeling of his own fingers around her throat, or the arousal swelling in him. He swore quietly. His hands shook. He hated that dream with a vengeance. Why wouldn’t it just leave him alone?

“I'd never hurt you,” he whispered, and if he was honest he didn't know who he was reassuring, her or himself.

Her breath caught for a moment, her body tensed. “I know,” she said. “Are you dreaming about what you saw in the dimensional rift?”

He nodded miserably.

“Want to talk about it?” Kathryn asked softly, her voice a beacon in the storm of his soul.

He desperately wanted to purge himself, to confess his sins into her neck in the darkness, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “I can’t tell you.”

“It’s okay.” She took his trembling hands between her own. “Come on, lay back down.” She stretched out beside him, rolled over, bringing his arm over her torso, shifting herself backwards so she fit just right, her spine pressed against his chest. She was warm, soft, comforting, but he couldn't help wondering what he would see if her face was visible. Disappointment that he wouldn’t talk to her? Suspicion about what he’d seen? He was glad she couldn't see his face. The darkness hid many secrets.

As time went on, Chakotay never expected things to be as easy between them as they had been on New Earth, and he was right about that. They still butted heads professionally. Sometimes there was sadness in her eyes that he couldn’t quite fathom. He suspected she ate to please him while they were together, but he worried she neglected her nutritional needs when she was alone. He was careful not to nag her, though, as that way would surely lead to tension. He just kept putting food on the table.

#

“Have you seen my hairbrush?”  Kathryn asked one morning, about three months into their new arrangement.

“I think I saw it in my bathroom.” He wandered into his own room to grab the errant object. Very gradually, items seemed to be transferring between their rooms. His shaving kit seemed to be where ever he didn’t wake up half the time. He returned to Kathryn’s side in front of her bathroom mirror, and handed her the brush.

“Thanks.” She let her breath go, and glanced at him. “Do you think they suspect?”

“The crew? I don’t think so. Or if they do, they’re smart enough not to tattle in my hearing.”

“Hmmm. Well I suppose we’ve gotten away with it so far.”

“Kathryn,” he smiled. “You worry too much. We’re doing fine.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Can you meet me on the holodeck later?”

She shot him a quizzical glance. “No fooling around on the holodeck, remember.”

He held up his hands in mock supplication. “No nefarious intentions. Honestly. Well, not _very_ nefarious. There’s just something I want to share with you. Some place I wished we’d had more time to enjoy while we were there.”

“All right. What time?”

“Nineteen hundred hours.” He kissed her cheek, before turning towards his own room. They were always careful to leave through their own doors. “See you on the bridge.”

At the end of the working day, which was remarkably free of disasters for once, as Delta Quadrant life always seemed to lurch from one crisis to another, Chakotay arrived at holodeck two and activated his programme. He stepped into glorious sunshine on a crowded beach.

He surveyed the scene. “Computer, delete fifty percent of holographic characters.” The hubbub immediately dropped, letting him hear the sound of the waves. He found a spot to sit on the golden sand and took off his boots and socks, dug his feet in deep, and sat looking out over San Francisco bay. The sand was glorious between his toes, and the sun on his face was almost indistinguishable from the real thing. The only fault was the smell. Chakotay always found holodeck air never completely achieved the same quality as the real outdoors. A computer could create objects and landscapes, but the subtlety of salt tang mixed with vehicle fumes exceeded even twenty fourth century technology. That said, this was more than good enough. He closed his eyes. Contentment lulled him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and realised he’d been close to drifting to sleep.

“1996?” Kathryn said, sitting down at his side.

“When we were there, dealing with Braxton and Starling, we barely had a moment to stop and think.”

Kathryn laughed. “We never do. Anyway, in my opinion _thinking_ is over-rated.”

“Pausing to enjoy ourselves isn’t,” he countered, wiggling his toes in the golden sand. “Take your boots off, Kathryn.”

She smiled indulgently, and tugged her footwear off. “So, all that time you were hankering after making sandcastles?”

“In a way. I did wonder what we’d do if we’d been stranded in 1996.”

“Ugh. Doesn’t bear thinking about. The effect that would have had—“

“I know, Temporal Prime Directive. A man can dream, though.”

Kathryn looked over her shoulder, as if she was concerned a member of the crew might catch them in an unguarded moment, even though she would know he’d barred entry to everyone but her.

She leaned in a little closer to him, her shoulder nudging his. “What did you dream of, then?”

“Oh, that we had to find a quiet corner of the planet and fade into obscurity. I built us that log cabin we talked about on New Earth.”

Kathryn laughed. “And we grew tomatoes? Nice dream.”

He slid his arm around her shoulder. “It was.” He waved his free arm expansively. “You see, in my dream we lived in a tiny but friendly town. I made furniture, and in time you became mayor.”

Kathryn gave a good natured splutter. “Doesn’t sound like obscurity to me. But I like it.”

Chakotay smiled, emboldened. “Eventually, we even had a family.”

He felt Kathryn stiffen beside him and instantly feared he’d pushed his tale too far. He’d been thinking about Seska’s baby more and more lately, the child he’d briefly thought his own. And then Q had turned up with that outrageous notion of ‘mating’ with Kathryn, which had sent Chakotay’s blood pressure soaring, no matter how nonchalantly Kathryn dealt with the whole debacle. She handled Q with her usual inimitable style, but Chakotay had been quietly furious the whole time. After that, his thoughts had turned to speculation about a child he and Kathryn might have. He’d kept those wandering dreams close to his chest for a while, but clearly the secret wanted out. 

She looked at him with startled eyes. “Is that something you want, Chakotay? A family?”

He cursed silently. “Do you?”

“I asked first,” she said abruptly, her body frozen.

“I’m sorry.” His voice faltered. He should have guessed this conversation would trouble her. Desperate to extract himself from the awkward spot, he added weakly, “Put it this way. I wouldn’t rule it out, if our lives permitted it.”

She was staring at him. “I don’t see how our lives _could_ permit it. We stagger from one crisis to the next, week after week. The Kazon. Vidiians. We’re bound to run into the Borg sooner or later.”

A crushing weight filled his chest. How foolish of him to let his guard down and reveal his idle dreams. He had to pull this back, somehow, into the realms of the things she would accept, regardless of his own hopes and wishes.

“I didn’t mean here in the Delta Quadrant,” he said. Kathryn made to stand up, but he caught her hand. “Out here our lives have a certain path to tread, and I’m not suggesting we deviate from it.”

She laughed tightly. “This is not a conversation I expected to have today.”

“Then we don’t have to have it,” he said. “Let’s just enjoy the sunshine and the sand.”

She pursed her lips, and for a moment he thought she’d run anyway, or push the conversation into a row.

“It is a beautiful beach,” she said after a few moments. “We should take time to appreciate the good things. Someone very wise once told me that.” She stood up, keeping hold of his hand. “Shall we take a talk by the water’s edge? I think I’d like to get my toes wet.”

Relief flooded though his veins. He stood up, and kissed her quickly before they headed to the shore. They had thirty more minutes in the holodeck, and he intended to enjoy every second of it.

#

Time went on. Kathryn’s words a few weeks prior had been prophetic, as it turned out _Voyager_ was moving towards Borg space. Chakotay, in command as Kathryn had holed herself up in her ready room, noted the tension on the bridge was palpable, with the senior staff undoubtedly wondering what the captain would do. Risk taking them through Borg space, or try to find a way around? Hell, he’d like to know himself what she had planned.

More for the distraction than anything he asked Neelix to bring some food to the bridge. The Talaxian arrived with a selection of strange looking fruits.

Unable to wait any longer, Chakotay chimed the ready room door, the plate in his hand.

“Come,” she said, barely looking up from her terminal.

He put the fruit on the desk in front of her.

She sighed, and didn’t acknowledge the plate. “We've all tried to prepare ourselves for the challenge ahead. At what point do we admit the risk is too great, Chakotay, come about and retreat to friendly territory?” She turned to face him. “Could the crew accept living out the rest of their lives in the Delta Quadrant? Could you?”

He moved to her side, and perched on her desk. It was a little informal on duty, and he wasn’t sure she’d like it, but he put a gentle hand on her shoulder anyway. “If I’m honest, I’d live my life out with you anywhere. But it’s not just about what we want as individuals, is it?”

“No, it isn’t. It’s about the hundred and fifty souls we have under our care. And the families we all left behind,” she said quietly. “Oh, Chakotay, I keep looking to all these captains and how they dealt with the Borg yet I still feel alone in this.”

Her words stung. “You're not alone, Kathryn.”

She put her hand to his chest, as if she regretted her fleeting honesty. “Three years ago, I didn't even know your name. Today I can't imagine a day without you.” She smiled, and came as close to kissing him in her ready room as she ever had. He covered her hand with his against his heart.

Tuvok’s voice cut through the moment. “Captain Janeway to the bridge.” 

#

The next few days existed in a realm of chaos, and Chakotay understood Kathryn had to be all captain to survive. The terrible battle in fluidic space, the Borg’s ultimate betrayal, him not following her orders, her more private battle with the Borg drone Seven of Nine, all these things left both of them strung out.

They had spoken only briefly since they left Species 8472’s space. They’d put on a show for the crew, of course, marching back onto the bridge as a unified command team, but he hadn’t knocked on the door between their rooms. He was giving her space. Deep down she probably still felt a sense of betrayal that he had disobeyed her orders, despite what she’d told him about respecting his judgement. He couldn’t help but worry everything that had happened over the past week had damaged their relationship.

Then, to top it all, they lost Kes. Kathryn was shutting herself away, Chakotay decided, to avoid her feelings. That was becoming her signature move.

He couldn’t leave her alone any more, no matter how much resentment he still felt at her choices. She’d done what she always did. Held her nerve, and gotten them closer to home. Maybe she actually wanted to talk to him, but didn’t know where to start.

Chakotay pulled back the drape and knocked at their adjoining door. He hovered on the threshold after she opened it. “Am I interrupting?”

 

“No, please, come in,” she said, and wandered across the room to sit on her sofa. She stared out of her window at the stars.

He sat by her side. “It can’t have been easy for you. Kes leaving like that.”

“I couldn’t stop her. I wouldn’t.” Her eyes shone as she turned towards him. “But you're right it hurt like hell.”

He rubbed her arm tentatively. “Of course it did. She looked up to you. Almost like a mother figure.”

Kathryn stiffened. Bitterness seeped into her voice. “I’m no one’s mother, but I’m everyone’s captain.” She shook her head, as if trying to shake out an idea that had stuck in her throat. “It’s not as if I have any support out here. There’s no admiral to call on subspace, no Starfleet Command to fall back on. I'm all alone making the hard choices day after day.”

“Kathryn,” he pleaded. “You can talk to _me_. You're not alone. At least you don't have to be.”

“I wish it was that simple,” she whispered, her voice cracked, pain radiating from every pore in her skin. Before he could reply she stood up and pulled him urgently towards her bedroom. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Kathryn—”

“I need to forget everything that’s happened over the last few days, at least for a while.” He could see she was in no mood for conversation.

She kissed him again, hard, tearing at his clothes, falling on him like she was starving. He saw something deep in her eyes he couldn’t grasp, but she wouldn’t pause or hold still. He wanted to talk. He wanted to sit her down to eat. He wanted so many things, but arousal heated him beyond his capacity to think clearly, sweeping him along with her passion, stripping each other of uniforms and duty, mistakes forgotten, until he felt naked, body and soul.  

It was a rough kind of love they made, almost cruel.

She turned around on her hands and knees, inviting him to take her from behind. “Like this. Hard,” she said.

He didn’t need a second invitation. Thrusting inside her that way felt so good, so tight. His sack slapped against her backside, and she grunted. He slowed his pace a little.

“Don’t hold back,” she said.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He knew this position could be painful if he went too deep and banged into her cervix.

“I don’t care. Harder,” she said. She grasped his hand and pulled it tight over her breast. He felt himself boiling. He thrust faster, but just when he was about to explode inside her she pulled herself free of him, leaving him a little disorientated.  “Let me get on top,” she said.

He let her call the shots, set the pace, be the captain, and nothing in the entire galaxy felt as terrible and wonderful than his body and soul being under her command.

#

The next year wasn’t easy. There were times Kathryn felt torn by the tension between their public personas and their private relationship. She had to admit they had become experts at hiding, though. No one seemed to suspect that they were sleeping together, at least no gossip reached her ears, although it probably wouldn’t, given her position. Chakotay said the crew were in the dark, and he’d be more likely to hear tattle than she would. She liked to think he would be honest enough to tell her if he heard lose talk, but who was she to judge?

Sometimes she went a week or two without even thinking of the almost-child suspended in a cryogenic tube in sickbay. But every lie carries a burden of debt to the truth, and its weight grew every month. She had always thought of herself as a straightforward, honest person. Until now.

Even so, Kathryn’s state of mind fared pretty well when they were pitted against seemingly endless foes, enemies, and disasters. But the relentless journey across the void changed all that. She thrived on action, putting her ingenuity to the test, pushing her limits. It was dull days she couldn't tolerate. They gave her too much time to think. And the void meant months of nothing but time to ruminate on her failures and deception. She saw less and less of Chakotay, isolating herself from the crew and from him. She knew she was letting everyone down, but she couldn’t shake herself out of the funk she’d fallen into.

One afternoon, after her absence in his bed for more than two weeks, Chakotay turned up at her outside door, not their shared, secret door. Clearly an ‘official’ visit. He had a report in his hand.

“What I wouldn't give for a few Borg cubes about now,” Kathryn said, hoping to deflect a personal conversation. “No time to brood on how we got stranded here.”

“We were faced with an impossible choice,” he said carefully. “Getting get home would've put innocent people at risk, so we decided to stay.”

“No. No, no. _I_ made that choice for everyone.”

“We're alive and well, and we've gathered enough data about this quadrant to keep Starfleet busy for decades. Our mission's been a success.”

“I've told myself that for the past four years. But then we hit this Void, and I realised how empty it sounds. How empty everything sounds.” She stared silently out of her window at the unwavering black beyond. No stars. No trails of light. Nothing but darkness; the emptiness outside a painful reflection of the emptiness she felt within. She didn’t look at him, and she said nothing more.

In the end, faced with her wall of silence, he turned and left.

Chakotay’s hurt cut her to the bone, and she sank onto her bed, hating herself a little bit more.

How old would their daughter be now? A year and a half? She'd be laughing and toddling. Would she have blue eyes? Brown? Would everything really have gotten out of control, as she’d feared? Maybe not. The crew were too professional, too well trained to fall apart, but _Voyager_ would have been without its captain at crucial moments. They could easily all be dead. Their fate always balanced on a hair trigger.

Besides, this terrible void was no place to raise a child.

And yet, there were moments when she physically ached for her daughter, and tortured herself with impossible dreams. Other times she knew without doubt she'd done the right thing in putting the embryo in stasis. Oh, but Chakotay. It always came back to how she'd deceived him. That was the hardest to bear of all, and lately the only way for her to withstand the guilt was to keep him at a distance. Yet she couldn't bring herself to break the relationship off. She loved him. 

Kathryn let her head fall back, and dreamed that somehow, impossibly, they had the child together.

_In her dream he's a good father. They are back on Earth, in a field in Indiana, their daughter riding on Chakotay’s shoulders, laughing, wearing red wellington boots. The wind gusts in their hair. Kathryn’s mother calls them in for dinner. Phoebe is there, too. It’s beautiful._

She woke. Her heart ached.

So many times lately she had almost told Chakotay about the baby and then talked herself out of it. The weight of concealment grew ever heavier, and her fears he’d never forgive her grew stronger. Maybe those fears were unfounded, maybe not. He’d always forgiven her missteps and poor judgements. So far. But there would surely come a day when he wouldn’t.

#

Later that night, Kathryn came to Chakotay’s room. He was already in bed despite the relatively early hour, reading.

“Kathryn,” he said, surprised, but pleased to see her. “I’ll get up. Have you eaten? I can prepare something if you like.”

“I’m not hungry,” she whispered. “Don’t get up.”

“How about a walk on the holodeck? I’m sure I can cajole time from someone.”

She slipped into bed beside him, and let her hand rest on his leg. “I’d rather have sex.”

He said nothing. It seemed like that was the only reason she’d spend time with him lately. Each time they made love there had been something desperate about the way she moved her hips, as if the harsh edges of her ribs and the sharp angles of her shoulder blades were all she was made of.

“Don’t you want me?” she asked, eyes glistening.

He sighed. “Of course I want you. But I want more than sex. I want Kathryn back.”

“This is all I have to give, right now,” she said hoarsely.

Her eyes shone, and for a terrible moment he thought she might cry, and he had the sudden sense that if she cried, she’d run and end up further away than ever. He touched her jaw and leaned in to kiss her, because that way neither had to look the other in the eye.

He watched her move above him, her eyes closed, lost in her pleasure, while he was adrift in a sea of his own. How could sex still be so good, even when they barely spoke?

After, he tried to hold her. “Kathryn—”

She moved away, covering herself quickly with the sheet. “I need to take a shower.”

He waited, but she didn't return to his bed. It stung like hell that he couldn't reach her, that she wouldn't let him comfort her when she so clearly needed it. She left his quarters with barely a word. It felt like his world was slowly ending. The crew needed their captain. _He_ needed Kathryn. She was slipping away from him and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it.

It took intruders boarding _Voyager_ and a moral crisis to shake her out of her funk in the end, which was a relief. That she would consider remaining behind in the Void, though, left him with a sick feeling. With a problem to resolve beyond her private pain, she had become Captain Janeway again. A little too _Janeway._

As for Kathryn, well, he honestly didn’t have a clue what was going on with _her_.

 

 

 


	15. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Timeless, Kathryn and Chakotay re-examine their relationship.

 

They were so close to getting home, Kathryn could almost taste her mother’s cooking. Weeks of work on the slipstream drive had left her with an optimistic fluttering in her chest. Her thoughts turned more and more to the freedom she would have; time to think about what she really wanted, finally lay down the captain’s burdens for a while and consider her future beyond this voyage.

On her way to Engineering, she stopped by sickbay. It was hard to believe it was more than two years since they returned from New Earth to discover that she was pregnant. She had carried the secret alone for so long, but it felt like it was bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

“Doctor. I wanted to check on the… the genetic sample we have in stasis.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Oh. If there had been any change the computer would have notified me, and I would have told you. All is well.”

“All the same, I’d like to see.”

“Of course.” The Doctor retrieved the silver tube from the secure compartment at the back of sickbay and brought it to his office. Kathryn took it from him and placed it carefully on his desk. She activated the canister’s window. The tiny embryo looked just the same; scarcely bigger than a sesame seed.

“If we make it back to the Alpha Quadrant tomorrow, then you’ll have the freedom to consider your options,” said the Doctor. “Have you talked to Commander Chakotay?”

“I will,” she said, her heart a squall of nerves or excited anticipation, she couldn't tell. “Once our hands are no longer tied.”

That she might soon be free of her lie was a dizzying prospect.

Kathryn walked out of sickbay and continued to Engineering, where the crew had gathered. It was hard not to get carried away with the bubbling sense of celebration in the air, confetti swirling in her hair. She made a speech to her crew of the quantum slipstream drive and how it could take them all the way back to the Alpha Quadrant. _Home_. And her heart swelled.

When Chakotay fell into step beside her as she left, she threw discretion to the wind. “Do you have dinner plans?”

He smiled, and she knew why. It wasn't like her to share their plans so publicly. Her invitations were usually sent by electronic means, or a whisper, or a discrete knock at their secret door.

“Just a date with the replicator,” he said.

“Cancel them. My quarters…nineteen hundred hours.”

When the time came, seated across from him at her table, she felt a little giddy. It wasn't just the wine or the crew’s high spirits. In twenty-four hours they could be home. What would that mean for them all? For her and Chakotay and their baby? Was it possible that she would be free to make the choice she’d run from? To carry that child inside her. And what would he think? Would he be furious with her for keeping the secret so long? Would he forgive her?

For a fleeting moment she considered telling him right then. She wanted to. Yearned to tell him.

“Chakotay…” His eyes were a little guarded. No. She'd waited this long. Twenty-four hours more wouldn't hurt. “We launch tomorrow at oh eight hundred. You and Harry will take the Delta Flyer. Voyager will be right behind you.”

“The crew will be pleased.” But he didn't seem pleased. In fact, his face was decidedly sombre.

“You can give them the news yourself, after dessert. What about you? What do you think about my decision?”

“I've analysed Harry's flight plan. The theory is sound, but there are just too many variables. If something goes wrong in that slipstream... Kathryn, would it kill you to consult me before you make a choice?”

She smiled. “I do, in my own way. I certainly ask myself what you'll think.”

His face remained sour. “That's not the same and you know it!

Kathryn leaned forward. “This could be our only chance to use the quantum drive.” And their chance to heal. She knew she'd been hurting him these last month's, with her distance. She found it so hard to bear the guilt. She wanted that to stop. When they got home she could finally be honest with him, and free of the shadow that plagued her.

“True, but if you showed this data to any Starfleet engineer, they'd think we were out of our minds. We can find another way home. We've waited this long.”

“We've waited long enough. I know it's a risk, probably our biggest one yet, but I'm willing to take it.” It hurt to see so much doubt in his eyes. There had been a time when she truly believed he would follow her anywhere. She reached out and took his hand. “Are you with me?”

His expression softened, as if he couldn't stay mad at her. “Always.”

Her voice cracked a little. “When we get back, we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

“Sounds a little ominous.”

She looked briefly away, making an effort to hold herself in check. “No. Not at all.”  

“Well, you'll have to figure out how to keep me out of a Starfleet prison if you plan on having a long conversation.”

“You know I'll be pushing for a full pardon. For each and every one of you.”

As they ate, his smile warmed her. The tension in his shoulders fell away. He poured them both another small glass of wine while she served dessert.

“Do you ever think of New Earth?” It was a dangerous question, and she wasn’t quite sure why she asked, except that the truth was fluttering in her chest like a caged bird.

“I do. Of course I do. It was…” His eyes radiated sadness. “We were so close there.”

“I know. It was like another life. I… I hope things will be different between us when we get home. And I want you to forgive me for everything I've done out here.”

“Forgive you?”

“For my mistakes. I… I haven't been as kind as I should be, lately.” She faltered. It would be the work of a moment to tell him about the baby. To free herself from the lie and hope he'd understand. But it wouldn't be sensible and it wouldn't be fair. He didn't need any extra distractions tomorrow, and nor did she. There would be plenty of time to tell him when they were home.

#

_Captain's log, supplemental. Our Slipstream flight may have been brief, but it took nearly ten years off our journey. I've given the order to dismantle the Quantum Drive until the technology can be perfected. Despite the setback, we have a renewed sense of momentum. It no longer seems a question of if we get home, but when._

Sitting on the bridge, Kathryn felt considerably less optimistic than her log implied. They’d dodged a bullet yesterday, but everything she’d said to Chakotay the previous night about wanting things to be different between them had been true. She could fix things right now, if she let herself. She didn’t have to tell him about the baby, she just had to stop torturing herself about the lie.

Kathryn leaned closer to Chakotay across her command panel, and after a quick glance to confirm everyone was busy at their stations, she whispered, “Dinner, tonight?”

He glanced up. “Nineteen hundred?”

“Perfect.”

#

Chakotay poured Kathryn a glass of wine. He hated seeing her look so despondent. She’d been effervescent at the thought of getting home, and he wanted more than a fleeting glimpse of her happiness. He had to wonder, though. What on Earth had she been planning to talk to him about that she couldn’t tell him in the Delta Quadrant?

“So,” he said, “you're disappointed that the Quantum Drive didn’t work.”

“Aren't you?” She sounded surprised.

“Yes and no. Of course I want to get the crew home, and nothing will change that. But…” Should he press her on whatever it was she had planned talking about when they got home? Would it help or push her further away? Was that a risk worth taking?

“But?” she prompted.

He chose a safe topic. “I can't help wondering where the Marquis would be. Returning heroes or criminals?”

“I think the service records of the former Maquis crew over the past five years speak for themselves.”

As the evening went on, she seemed lost in thought, drifting into a space where he couldn’t reach her.

“Hey, where are you, Kathryn?” he asked. Perhaps it was time for him to leave. Her emotional distance over the past few weeks had taken a toll on him. He’d wondered at times if she wanted to end things, but didn’t know how. He could never quite bring himself to start a conversation about what she really wanted, as he didn’t think he would like the answer. But he knew he shouldn’t keep running from his fears.

“Will you stay tonight?” she said, surprising him.

“You haven't wanted me to, lately.”

She smiled coyly. “Well, if you're busy...”

He remained serious. “I'm not busy, Kathryn. I just need to know where I stand.”

“Beside me, I hope.”

He sighed, reining in his frustration. “That goes without question. But I want us to be more than occasional, angry lovers, Kathryn. I miss you.”

She looked down, her face flushed. “It's hard to explain. I'm an emotional screw up at times, I know it. I'm sorry.”

This isn't how he intended to make her feel, and he already regretted his words. She stared out of her window, her eyes painfully distant. He couldn’t let her go. He stood and rounded the table, pulling her into his arms.

She stifled a small sob into his belly. “I thought it would work… I hoped things would be different when we got home. That we could…”

“It's all right. We carry on,” he said. He would take her pain if he could. “We’ll keep travelling. We’ll get there.”

“I know. We do what we've always done. But I let myself dream. I wanted to get home so much I was prepared to risk everything. Who knows what might have happened if we hadn’t got Harry’s message and stopped?”

“Don't torture yourself, Kathryn,” he whispered.

She laughed. “Is that what I do?”

“Too often. Be gentle with yourself. Let me be gentle with you, like we used to be. Before we both got so angry.”

“Gentle. Like we were on New Earth?”

He nodded, and eased her to her feet, putting his hands on her hips, and moved her slowly with some unheard beat. “Remember this?”

There was no music, but their feet knew how to move.

“I haven't forgotten.” They danced, holding each other close, until she turned her face towards his, and kissed him tenderly. “I remember loving you, more than anything.”

“I've never _stopped_ loving you.”

“I do love you,” she whispered. “Life just got so complicated.”

He let his arms circle her. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened to us, if we'd stayed?”

“Oh, Chakotay, so many things could have gone wrong. One of us might have ended up alone.”

“Or we might still be blissfully happy. Growing tomatoes and exploring the river.”

“I _was_ happy there, with you.” She explored his mouth with her tongue. It felt blissful. It had been so long since she kissed him without a hard edge of anger or desperation.

“Kathryn,” he murmured. He was falling into her again. He should shield his heart, but he was powerless in her arms, with her lips on his.

“Let's go to bed, hmm?” she whispered.

This time, she didn't take control, pin him down and climb on top, or face away from him and insist he took her from behind. Gently she pulled him over her and let him make love to her.

They were truly together, skin on skin, taking time to explore one another again instead of the desperate clawing that had dominated their lovemaking in recent months. He breathed her in. Every freckle. The soft swell of her breasts, the way she moved with him. The reverence in her kisses.

He was inside her, yet it felt like she was inside him, deep in his bones, and he was grasping something he thought he'd lost. For the first time in months, he saw—felt—Kathryn, without the captain's shadow.

After, as she lay in his arms, she whispered, “I'm going to try harder, Chakotay.”

He wanted so much to believe her.

 


	16. Trust is a Rare Commodity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head for Chakotay and Kathryn. 
> 
> Set during Equinox and Voyager Conspiracy, and just after.

Kathryn was resolute that they could fool the Devore inspection teams by hiding their own telepaths and the refugees, and so far she’d been right. _Of course._ Chakotay didn’t have to like it, though. The way Kashyk looked at Kathryn made his blood boil.

“I don't like it. I don't trust him,” Chakotay said, eyeing Kathryn warily across the small space that separated their command chairs.

She just smiled. “Neither do I.”

“I should be there when you meet with him.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I'm the captain. I can't afford to show weakness.”

“I hate the idea of you alone with him.”

“You're just going to have to trust I can take care of myself.” There was an edge of irritation to her voice now, so he didn’t push it any further. After several anxious hours, the Devore inspection teams left empty handed. Chakotay was just glad Kashyk was gone.

When Kashyk returned, full of arrogance, Chakotay didn't hide his disbelief. He paced her living quarters. “Defected? Kashyk? We should throw him in the brig.”

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. “Now you're being deliberately obtuse. This is an opportunity. We can find that wormhole and get the refugees right out of Devore space if we pool our knowledge.”

“You're going to spend time working on it with him?”

“You're _jealous_.”

He didn't even try to deny it. “The whole situation is preposterous. I don't trust him!”

“I told you, nor do I.” She smiled and put a hand on his chest. “Chakotay, you have nothing to worry about.”

It rankled that she belittled his fears and ignored his advice. Every time she did something like this she chipped away at him, eroding that place in his heart he’d guarded fiercely for so long. He ought to expect it by now, though.

He sloped off to his own quarters, and to bed. It had been a few weeks since he’d had the ugly recurring dream of Kathryn and Paris, which always ended with his own fingers around her throat. Tonight, with the Devore inspector-turned-defector sniffing around Kathryn like a targ in musth, the nightmare returned in full force. But this time it wasn't Paris touching her. In Chakotay's dream, Kashyk had her bent over her own desk, and was thrusting into her fragile, naked body, winding his long arms around her chest, leaning in to kiss her shoulders. Chakotay stood rooted to the spot, watching with sordid fascination. He couldn't tell if the sounds Kathryn made were pleasure or distress, and the rhythmic movement of their bodies disgusted and inflamed him.

Worst of all, he felt himself become aroused at the grotesque image. This was his worst fear. How could it turn him on?

With a furious roar he plunged forward and yanked Kashyk off Kathryn. He slammed him to the floor, got his hands around the Devore's throat, and squeezed. It felt good. But soon Kashyk's face morphed and changed, and even as Chakotay blinked it becameKathryn he was strangling instead.

“Don't you trust me, Chakotay?” she gasped.

Chakotay shook awake with a choking sob, covered in sweat. He dragged his trembling body out of bed, ready to grab a phaser. “Computer, locate Captain Janeway.”

“Captain Janeway is in her quarters.”

“Locate Kashyk.”

“Kashyk is in guest quarters, room six, deck nine.”

Relief flooded through him, with a decent serving of guilt that he’d even imagined that Kashyk might be in her quarters. How could he suspect her? He worked on regulating his breathing, slowly in and out, banishing the hateful images of Kathryn and another man and the sensation of his fingers around Kathryn’s throat. Why? Oh, he knew dreams didn’t have literal interpretations. He could even understand the images of Kathryn with Paris or Kashyk as a manifestation of his own insecurity or jealously. But hurting her, even in his dreams, disturbed him deeply. If they’d had a counsellor aboard he might have booked a session.

He flopped back onto his bed, letting the phaser fall from his grip.

Who was he kidding, of course he wouldn’t talk about this, not to anyone. Listen to some pseudo-sexual psycho-babble about him unconsciously fearing he would be the agent of his captain’s destruction? No thanks. That was one secret he’d take to the grave. 

He tossed and turned for a long time before he finally fell asleep.

Predictably, Kathryn played the Devore inspector masterfully even as Kashyk betrayed them. Chakotay should have felt smug that he had been right about Kashyk all along, and proud of his captain’s guile, but he just felt relieved the snake was off _Voyager_ and away from Kathryn.

#

Although Chakotay had hated Kashyk on sight, neither he nor Kathryn had that same instinct about Captain Ransom a few months later. Their joy at finding another Starfleet vessel, the _Equinox,_ in the Delta Quadrant was short lived. Ransom broke faith with everything Starfleet stood for. Worst of all, Kathryn had taken it personally. Chakotay and Kathryn had disagreed, fundamentally, on the priorities.

Chakotay eyed Kathryn warily. “You've been known to hold a grudge. This man betrayed Starfleet, he broke the Prime Directive, dishonoured everything you believe in.”

Kathryn sniffed. “Borg, Hirogen, Malon. We've run into our share of bad guys. Ransom's no different.”

“Yes, he is. He's human. I don't blame you for being angry, but you can't compromise the safety of this ship for a personal vendetta.”

Her eyes were on fire now. “You're right, I’m furious. He's a Starfleet Captain, and he's abandoned our principles. He's out there right now, torturing and murdering innocent lifeforms just to get home a little quicker, while we make sacrifice after sacrifice, and have to plod home the long way. Do you understand how wrong that is? I'm going to hunt him down. If you want to call that a vendetta, go right ahead.”

“You're so angry with Ransom, you've lost your objectivity.”

“He's violated everything the Federation stands for! It's my responsibility—”

“You are not personally responsible for upholding every Federation ideal!”

“Who else is out here to do it?” she snapped. Then she turned her head. “Lessing will talk. Have him brought to cargo bay two.” Her tone was glacial, uncompromising. Chakotay’s blood ran cold. Why was she so caught up with this?

**Cargo bay two.**

“I want Ransom's tactical status. I want it now, Mister Lessing.”  

“Or what, you'll hit me?”

Kathryn hated the arrogant look on Lessing’s face. How could he sit there, shielding a man committing genocide? She wasn’t going to let any of them get away with it. Why should they, when she was drowning under the weight of holding onto her own? She was sacrificing her own chance to be a mother to do the right thing by her crew and by Starfleet, while Ransom murdered innocent beings just to get home faster.

She’d played Kashyk. Now she’d do the same to Lessing. “No, crewman. I'll drop the shields around this room and let your friends pay you a visit.”

“That would be murder.”

She folded her arms. “You could call it poetic justice.”

Lessing glanced at Chakotay. “I suppose the plan is you to come to my rescue now, right?”

Chakotay shook his head. “There's no plan. The captain's on her own.”

Kathryn bent towards Lessing. “Ransom's status. Now.”

“No way in hell.”

“We all make our own hell, Mister Lessing. I hope you enjoy yours. The comm is active. We'll be outside if you have a change of heart.” His words might have been recklessly brave, but Kathryn could see fear curdling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes flitted to Chakotay. He would break, she knew it. Satisfaction swelled in her chest.

In the corridor, Chakotay grabbed her arm with surprising force. “Don't do this.”

“He'll break.” Her tone was unrelenting.

“He's a loyal officer. He's not going to betray his captain. Put up the shields.”

“ _He'll break._ ” They had to hold their nerve. Why couldn’t Chakotay see that? Ignoring her stony glare, Chakotay tried to put up the shields around the room.

“Level nine authorisation required,” the computer intoned.

“Damn it, Kathryn!”

“You're panicking. He’ll talk.” She stared at him, willing him to see past his emotional reaction. Lessing wouldn’t die for Ransom, she knew it in her bones.

Tuvok’s voice cut through. “A fissure is opening in cargo bay two.”

Kathryn nodded. “Understood.”

Chakotay slammed his fist to override to the cargo bay door and grabbed Lessing seconds before the alien touched him.

“Okay, you've demonstrated your loyalty to your captain.” Chakotay dragged Lessing into the corridor.

Kathryn greeted them with ice, her face stone, but with anger bubbling inside her like an evil cauldron. A few more seconds and they would have had the advantage. But Chakotay had thrown it away. Did think he had a right to undermine her decisions because they were sleeping together? She took a breath. She had to walk away, now, before she said or did something in front of Lessing she would regret. She left without a word.

Later, in the privacy of his quarters, she spat furiously at him. “What the hell gives you the right to disobey my orders?”

His eyes were hard. “You almost killed him.”

“I took a calculated risk. You think because we share a bed you can—”

“Fuck, Kathryn. That’s got nothing to do with it! It was my _job_ to stop you. You made a bad call.”

“I'll note your objection in my log,” she said coldly.

“In your log? I don't give a damn about your log,” he said incredulously. “This isn't about rules and regulations. It's about right and wrong. I won't let you cross that line again.”

There it was, the blurring of their roles. First officer and captain. Man and woman. _Lovers_. Her worst fears of how those two parts of their lives would play out exploded in front of her. She couldn’t think straight.

She had to deal with Ransom before she could deal with Chakotay and this whole damn mess she’d let happen around her. “You’re relieved of duty until further notice.”

His jaw set hard. “What's happened to you, Kathryn?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

#

What finally brought about Ransom’s change of heart at the height of battle Kathryn would never know, but as she stared at the devastation on her bridge all she could hang onto was that Ransom acted like a Starfleet captain, and in the end, died like one.

What a mess. Her own part in it most of all.

She still didn’t believe Lessing would have died rather than betray his captain, but Chakotay had been right regardless. She had been so blind with fury at Ransom for betraying his oath that she had come perilously close to betraying her own. Chakotay had pulled her back from the cliff’s edge and she’d repaid him by relieving him of duty. As the crew began the weary task of putting her ship back together, Kathryn’s heart was heavy.

Chakotay clearly didn’t hurry to the bridge after she reinstated him. Kathryn assumed he was checking on their people, doing the rounds like he always did after a crisis, which was right and proper. When he did arrive he walked stiffly, hands clasped behind his back.

“How's the crew?” she asked, because that was easier than asking how _he_ was. How _they_ were. Had she wounded their relationship beyond repair?

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “A lot of frayed nerves. Neelix is organising a potluck to boost morale.”

“Will I see you there?” she said softly.

“I'm replicating the salad.”

She dropped her gaze. “I'll bring the croutons. Chakotay. You may have had good reason to stage a mutiny of your own.”

“There are some lines I won’t cross,” he said.

Their eyes met. He didn’t say out loud that _she’d_ crossed a line, but he might as well have done. She’d felt so bitter, so unthinkingly angry at Ransom. Life in the Delta Quadrant must be twisting her out of shape. How did she fall so far into the belly of the beast and not know it was consuming her?

More importantly, how could she survive this journey without his respect and support?

Throat tight, she picked up _Voyager's_ dedication plaque from where it had fallen to the deck. “All these years, all these battles. This thing's never fallen down before.”

He took it from her. “Let's put it back where it belongs, Captain.” His eyes were kind, but guarded. As if she’d wounded him deeper than he would ever let on.

The act of fixing _Voyager’s_ plaque symbolised repairing their professional relationship. If only healing the wounds in their hearts would be so easy.

#

Nothing felt easy over the next few weeks. Chakotay worked hard to be kind to Kathryn, and he could see she was doing her best too, but the gulf between them grew nevertheless. They both fell far too quickly for Seven’s wild conspiracy theories. Once again, they tried to awkwardly repair the damage over dinner.

“I heard the strangest rumour today. Apparently, the captain and first officer almost came to blows,” Kathryn said as they sat to eat in her quarters.

“Kathryn, Seven was malfunctioning. We don't have that excuse.” Her eyes seemed far away. He didn’t want her to slip off into dark thoughts, or where ever the hell she hid from him these days. He leaned forward. “We've been through too much to stop trusting each other.”

Almost imperceptibly, she flinched.

To lighten the mood, he smiled and raised his cup. “You didn't poison the coffee, did you?”

“No more than usual.” She smiled too, but to his eyes it looked forced. “You want to stay tonight?” she said softly. “It’s been a long time since you have.”

“Almost two months.” He met her eyes. He should say no. Part of him wanted to back off, preserve his space and his peace of mind. Maybe it would be better for them both if they just let this relationship wither. But he couldn’t resist her, even though she hurt him over and over. The promise of her lips and her warm body sucked him in like a black hole, dangerous but impossible to resist. He wasn’t a wise enough man to refuse.

#

“Captain, we’ve got a problem with the environmental controls in sickbay, and all my people are tied up with the warp core realignment.”

“Understood, B’Elanna. I’ll send someone to deal with it.”

Kathryn turned to Ayala, who was at the engineering console on the bridge. “Mike, can you—”

“Sickbay to bridge,” came the Doctor’s irate voice.

“Janeway here.”

“Captain, I really must protest. The oxygen levels in sickbay are fluctuating wildly, and B’Elanna refuses to send—”

“They have their hands full in engineering right now, Doctor. Mr Ayala is on his way.”

Kathryn nodded at Mike, who was already moving towards the turbo lift.

“Ah. Well, very good,” the Doctor said. “Sickbay out.”

Chakotay suppressed a grin, while Kathryn rolled her eyes. She leaned towards him. “I was thinking of replicating a pot roast tonight. Would you join me?”

Chakotay raised an eyebrow. Two nights in a row. He put his nagging doubts aside. “That would be nice,” he said softly. “I’ll find a bottle of something.”

They made it to minutes before the end of their shift before the Doctor put in a call to Kathryn. “Captain! Please tell Mr Ayala he cannot tear up my sickbay!”

Kathryn glanced across at Chakotay.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said. “See you for dinner.”

When he arrived in sickbay, the place was a mess, with tubes and samples on every available surface and equipment piled high on the biobeds. The Doctor looked like his holomatrix was about to overload.

Ayala turned to Chakotay with strained patience. “Sir, we need to get at the environmental system conduits behind these storage units. It will take twenty minutes, tops, and then we’ll have everything back right where it was.”

“And what if there’s an emergency? How can I treat the injured when my sickbay looks like a Tarkalaen junk shop!”

“Doctor, there’ll be an emergency right here and now if we don’t regulate those oxygen feeds!” Ayala finally snapped.

Chakotay took the Doctor’s arm. “It will go quicker if I help.”

The Doctor scowled, and stalked away into his office. “Very well.”

In less than fifteen minutes, Ayala had the oxygen levels re-calibrated and the CO2 extraction unit functioning again. Chakotay cleared up the biobeds and placed the equipment back into their storage units. He picked up a cylindrical stasis tube.  

The infometric label read:

_Janeway-Chakotay Stardate 49766.3._

_Serial Number 34759D-J/C_

“What’s this?” The stardate was right after they left New Earth.

The doctor took hold of the silver tube. “A genetic sample.”

Chakotay wasn’t ready to let it go. “Sample of what?”

The Doctor shifted from foot to foot. “If you must know, it’s the Vidiian cure for the disease that stranded you and the captain on New Earth. I can use it to synthesize a response if the disease ever reasserts itself.” He pulled the stasis tube from Chakotay’s hands.

“Is that likely?”

“Well, not _likely_. But one can never be too cautious with something like that.”

Chakotay frowned. “Why do you need to retain the sample? Surely the chemical formulae of the anti-viral agent would be enough?”

The doctor sniffed. “And how many advanced degrees in medicine do you have, Commander?”

“None.”

“Then I suggest you leave the doctoring to me.” He stashed the tube back inside the storage unit.

Chakotay helped Mike finish the clearing up, but he wasn’t able to shake the odd feeling about that stasis tube. Even when he left sickbay, something didn't feel right. He couldn't explain it, but holding that small stasis tube and seeing his and Kathryn's names had made the hairs rise up on the back of his neck. Was there a danger he and Kathryn could get sick again? What hadn’t the Doctor told them? He swivelled around in the corridor and headed back to sickbay.

“Please state the nature…Oh. What can I do for you now, Commander?”

“I want to see that genetic sample again. Does the captain know about it?”

The Doctor opened his mouth and then closed it. After a moment, he said, “It’s just a precautionary measure by a doctor who’s learned the hard way to keep backup copies of complex antiviral agents. Seeing it won’t tell you anything I haven’t.”

“I’d still like to.”

The Doctor crossed his arms. “I’m afraid I must refuse.”

Chakotay narrowed his eyes. Something didn’t add up. What was the Doctor hiding?  He made a snap decision. “Computer, deactivate EMH.”  

With a dry throat, he picked up the tube. “Computer, identify medical sample serial number 34759D-J/C.”

“That information is restricted.”

“Damn it.” He examined the tube. It was shielded with a privacy field, which meant regular scans wouldn't penetrate it. Someone had worked hard at keeping its contents secret. All the more reason to find out what it was, in his view. He ran an old Marquis algorithm he had stored in his personal database to crack Starfleet security codes, and in minutes he was staring at data on the tube’s contents.

     **Foetus:** human, female

    **Status:** viable

     **Developmental stage:** five weeks

     **Maternity:** Janeway, Kathryn

     **Paternity:** Chakotay

     **Date placed in stasis:** 49766.3

 

Chakotay stared at the screen and read it over again. His stomach twisted. Surely he'd misunderstood? He shook his head. Looked again. No mistake. Kathryn had been pregnant when they left New Earth and hadn't told him. She and the Doctor had conspired to keep this from him. He felt sick, his whole body flushing red hot.

His head pounded. How could she? _Why_ would she? She had no right! His own child suspended inside this tube all this time. She'd just gone ahead and taken the decision for them both. How like her.

Fighting to control his shaking hands, he put the precious stasis tube carefully back in the storage unit. Was this why she became so dark and distant? Was she wrestling with a guilty conscience? Well, she wasn't going to have live with her little secret much longer.  

He flew to her quarters in a red haze. Maybe he should pause to take a breath before speaking to her, but the fury welling in him had nowhere to go. She'd been lying to him all this time. He burst into her quarters through their adjoining door.

She looked up in surprise. “What's wrong?”

“I've just been in sickbay.”

“Are you ill?”

“I know about the baby, Kathryn,” he yelled. “Tucked away in a damn stasis tube.”

The coloured drained from her face.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me?”

“What did you expect me to do? How could I have carried a child out here?”

“Whether you would have carried the child or not isn't the point! You’ve lied to me about it for years!”

“To protect you, and us, from having precisely this argument!”

“No, no you don't get to do this,” he said. “Make it about _Voyager_. You did this so you could keep control of everything, make it easier for yourself. _Don't_ pretend this was for my benefit.”

“Of course it was for you, and the crew! Do you think I don't want her? To hold her in my arms? Watch her grow? I want her more than anything! But I can't and still be the captain this crew needs.”

“I’ve been there for every bad decision you’ve made. Stood by your side, protected you from the worst of yourself, but this...” He shook his head, his throat so tight it hurt.

“Can't you see the impossible position I was in?” she pleaded.

“You _made_ it impossible! In your own head, nowhere else!” His voice felt raw, his heart torn open.

“Please, Chakotay. It's been hell.”

“Of your own making!” He paced her quarters at a rate of knots, his hands curled into tight fists. “You’re torturing yourself, and I think part of you likes it.”

Her eyes became rounded. She took a shuddering breath. “I suppose I deserve that. I'm sorry, for what it's worth.”

Chakotay couldn't look at her. “At this point, it's not worth very much.” He turned on his heels and left.

#

Kathryn slammed her fist into the table. Dinner plates loaded with food she'd set out trembled, and in a fit of blind anguish, she swept the lot onto the floor. The candles tipped onto the table cloth.

“Damn it.” She flipped the cloth to smother the flames. “ _God damn it, Kathryn_.” She sat down at the table, her eyes pricking, her throat tight. The moment she’d dreaded for years had crashed in on her, every fear she had buried coming true. She couldn’t hold back the hot tears as they spilled, and as she sobbed, she wondered if she would ever stop.

In the days that followed, he wouldn’t even talk to her off duty. She asked him once, but he met her with cool silence. He did his job and avoided her eyes. She couldn’t blame him for his anger.

In the end, hating herself and everything about what she’d done, she couldn't stand it any longer. She went to his quarters. “Chakotay. We have to talk about this.”

He remained seated. “I can't, Kathryn.” He stared across the room.

“I understand you're angry…”

“I'm not angry. I'm just worn out. I've got nothing left to give.” He looked listless. Washed out. Sad.

Her heart plummeted. “I am so sorry.”

“So am I. I need some space.”

Panic hovered above her. He wasn’t going to forgive her. Just as she’d dreaded, this lie was too deep. His wounds too raw. She had to do the right thing by him now.

“I’ll respect that, just like you’ve respected every request I’ve made of you over the years. And I promise I won't do anything to the baby, implant it, or...interfere with the sample in anyway, without your consent.”

He looked up abruptly. “How do I know you're telling the truth? That you won't change your mind when it suits you?”

“Despite everything, I can only ask you to trust me once again.”

“Trust? That's a rare commodity around here these days.”   

A knife twisted deep in her gut. “It's this journey. It's bent us both out of shape. I never meant to hurt you.”

He shook his head, bitterly. “I've got to stop _letting_ you hurt me.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper. “How have we come to this, Chakotay? What’s left for us?”

“Duty,” he said brokenly. “Just duty. I'll see you on the bridge, Captain.”

Kathryn Janeway took a deep, and turned stoically away from him, knowing the choices she had made brought them to this point, and unable to see a way out.  She had truly lost him.

 


	17. Circle of Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If lies had a smell, it would be acrid and bitter, and the air in Voyager’s ready room would have been choking in a cloud of deceit.
> 
> As Voyager makes it back to the Alpha Quadrant, Kathryn and Chakotay tread a tumultuous path. Can they find a way back to each other?

 

After the revelation of Kathryn’s deception about the baby, Chakotay put himself back together the only way he knew how: in the boxing ring. He fought until the pain felt good and then he fought some more. He _had_ to stop letting Kathryn hurt him, for both their sakes. End the cycle of wounding each other before they did so much damage that they’d never recover. Fool that he was, he still loved her. But he couldn’t _be in love with_ her. Not like this. Some distance would be better for _Voyager_ , better for Kathryn, and easier for him. He kept his distance. They were civil on the bridge.

It was hell.

He was surprised when, several weeks later, Seven asked him to dinner. He admired her directness and if he was honest, he welcomed the distraction. He hadn’t expected her to ask him again for a second, and then third time.

Seven picked up her fork, but didn’t start to eat. “We have eaten together three times. Do you consider us to be dating?”

Taken aback, he hardly considered his reply before he spoke. “Do you?”

“I am uncertain.” She looked almost shy.

He blinked, flattered, still not really sure where this was going. Was it one of Seven’s social blunders? She was like an adolescent in the body of a grown woman, beautiful, very sexy. But naive. He really shouldn’t take advantage of her exploration of social rituals.

“Would you like us to be dating?” he said, smiling in spite of himself.

She looked at him with sudden self-assurance. “Yes. I would like that.”

Her gaze fixed him in time, and suddenly he couldn’t look away. She was a grown woman, capable of making her own choices. And she was, apparently, choosing him. Perhaps this was just what he needed. A way to get Kathryn Janeway out of his system.

Almost without thinking, the words spilled out, “Then we’re dating.”

“Then you will kiss me?”

“That depends,” he said, and the flirting came easy. He’d had plenty of practice, after all. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

He stood up, and moved round the table before his better judgement could stop him. He hadn’t kissed anyone but Kathryn for so long. He hadn’t wanted to. But he would kiss Seven now, because she had asked him. As he drew her to her feet, her expression remained one of mild curiosity.

He pressed her lips to hers, lightly. She didn't move, or respond, and he was reminded again with a pang of guilt just how little human interaction she'd been exposed to. She deserved better than an old fool like him. But he was still hurting, and he was lonely, and he was only human, after all. So he kissed her again.

#

Some days later, Chakotay took a picnic basket and put down a blanket in the hydroponics bay. In all the years they had been together on _Voyager_ , as colleagues, friends, lovers, he and Kathryn had never once done this. She wouldn’t sit eating lunch out of a basket with him, in full view of any crew member who happened to wander past. There were so many things they had never done. They never would, now.

“Chakotay?” He realised Seven had been speaking to him.

“Sorry, yes?”

“I said, this is an agreeable spot for a picnic.”

“Yes it is,” he said, guilt jolting his attention back to Seven. “And with _very_ agreeable company,” he added, smiling.

He opened the basket he’d packed, and began to pull out items of food.

Then he heard Kathryn’s voice. She was walking towards them, deep in conversation.

“I don’t know, B’Elanna.”

“Captain, I know people like to spend time here, but with the replicators working at increased efficiency, we don’t need to grow so much food. We could afford to devote some of this area to processing the feriliam ore we picked up last week.”

“The crew needs some place to relax, and the holodecks are still limited.”

“But think of the gains, Captain. We could reinforce that weak area in the aft bulkhead and…” B’Elanna rounded the corner, Kathryn beside her.

Chakotay flushed red hot under Kathryn’s gaze. She stared first at him, and then at Seven, and then back to him again, her mouth slightly open. Then she clamped her jaw shut and her eyes became ice. He’d never been on the receiving end of the Janeway death glare before. He suddenly understood why their enemies trembled.

Kathryn raised her hand. “Take as much of this area as you need,” she said to B’Elanna, and then turned abruptly on her heels and left.

B’Elanna frowned, following the captain with her eyes. “What was _that_ about? And what are you two up to?” The chief engineer’s frown deepened into a scowl. She looked again from Seven to Chakotay, and then sighed, shaking her head, and placed her hand on her rounded belly. “You know what? None of my business.” B’Elanna too turned and left, albeit at a much slower pace than the captain.

Seven faced Chakotay with a sombre expression. “Please explain Captain Janeway’s behaviour. She has encouraged me to pursue social interactions yet she seemed displeased to see you and I together.”

“It’s not about you. The captain and I had a small disagreement. It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you certain? Your pulse rate has increased significantly.”

“I’m certain, Seven.” He leaned in to kiss her, hoping to distract her from this conversation, which he absolutely wanted to avoid.

Seven pulled back slightly. “You have known the captain a long time. You began this journey together—”

“Maybe so, but I intend to finish it with you.”

Seven smiled brightly, as if he’d just offered her a gift.

He drew her in to a kiss, and forced himself to focus on her, only her. Her body was warm, rounded and soft. In recent days she’d shown him a sweet side to her nature he hadn’t imagined was there. There was plenty to like about the way this relationship was going. Unfortunately, he didn’t like _himself_ very much at all.

#

Kathryn held her back ram-rod straight on the way to the bridge, her chin high. She marched straight into her ready room and jabbed her computer screen on.

Coffee. She needed coffee. Lots of it. She growled a command at the replicator and strode, cup in hand, over to the observation window, gripping the china way too tightly.

A cosy little picnic in the hydroponics bay indeed! How could Chakotay start relationship with Seven, of all people? And that definitely looked like the start of a relationship to her. She put her cup down and squeezed her eyes firmly shut. She didn’t want to imagine it: picturing them together made her stomach churn. Oh, she’d been able to accept that he needed to keep his distance, that he was angry and hurt, even that he needed to punish her for the lie. But she’d thought he would come around. That in time he’d forgive her and they would find their way back to their turbulent love affair. They always had in the past. But this… it smacked of putting their relationship behind him and moving on.

She rubbed her shoulder as a spasm of tension shot through her neck. _Damn it._ A wave of sorrow threatened to consume her. Kathryn Janeway would not cry. She had to get herself under control. Just as her choice to strand her crew in the Delta Quadrant came with a heavy cost in lives and years, so did her lie about the baby. This was the price. She had to pay it.

“Bridge to Captain Janeway,” Harry’s voice interrupted her ruminations. “We’ve detected an unusual configuration of neutrino emissions, concentrated at the centre of a nearby nebula.”

“On my way, Harry,” Kathryn said. She abandoned her cup of coffee. Maybe what she needed to take her mind off whatever the hell was going on in the hydroponics bay, was a good old fashioned Delta Quadrant distraction.

She couldn’t have predicted in a million years just how big a distraction was waiting in that nebula; a time traveller in the form of her future self, one Admiral Kathryn Janeway.

#

Chakotay hadn’t even tried to talk Kathryn out of the Admiral’s wild plan. He couldn’t bring himself to face her. She had to be upset that he was dating Seven, though. But then again, she’d been an expert at keeping secrets, so perhaps he was wrong and she didn’t care at all. 

So Chakotay chose to stand by Seven on the bridge during that glorious moment of their return to the Alpha Quadrant, not exactly because he wanted to hurt Kathryn, but because he wanted to notice.

And maybe he _did_ want to punish her. Or he was punishing himself, because this felt like purgatory. He’d certainly lost the straight road this time, with Seven beside him and Kathryn alone by her chair.

She might just as well have been seventy thousand lightyears away. 

“Take the con, Mister Chakotay,” she said softly, without smiling, not once looking him in the eye.

 _Mister_ Chakotay? Kathryn hadn’t called him that in years, if ever. She was laying down the parameters, damn her. What could he do? He glanced at Seven, and then followed Kathryn’s order to take the helm.

“Set a course for home,” Kathryn said, her voice sounding thick and dry in her throat. He kept his eyes directly ahead, focused only on the blue planet that had been their goal and their mission for seven long years.

He should be joyful. So why did it feel like hell?

#

By choice, Chakotay wouldn’t have gone into the ready room later that day. Although he was ashamed to admit it, he would have been quite prepared to leave _Voyager_ without facing her. But he was still first officer, and he had de-embarkation lists for the captain to authorise. He steeled himself and walked through the door. She was engrossed in reports, as usual, and barely looked up at him. A surge of anger radiated from his chest to his jaw.

“So. Home.” He waved a hand at the image of Earth beyond the window. “You’ve got everything you wanted. Are you happy?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She turned stiffly, putting down the PADD. “How about you? Are you happy with the position you find yourself in?” Her voice was like honeyed poison. She didn’t say _Standing_ _next to Seven, instead of sitting by my side,_ but she might as well have done _._

“Perfectly,” he retorted.

If lies had a smell, it would be acrid and bitter, and the air in _Voyager’s_ ready room would have been choking in a cloud of deceit.

 

**#**

Chakotay lay in bed in San Francisco. _Seven years_. Seven years in the Delta Quadrant and he’d never felt lost, not truly. Yet they had been back on Earth for three months now, and he was adrift. Even with Seven at his side, his heart was light years away.

He looked across at Seven sleeping. They had spent time together after each day’s debriefing, as most of the crew had their own families, and neither he nor she had wanted to be alone. He’d enjoyed showing her San Francisco, and Seven seemed to cling to him, nervous at the attention she attracted as a former Borg drone. It had made him feel good to be needed. She had also begun to develop a relationship with her aunt, which he encouraged despite her reservations and uncertainty.

They had both been assigned quarters, but Seven often wanted to stay with him. He hadn’t been unhappy about that particular development, at first. She was undeniably beautiful. But there was something very efficient about the way Seven touched him. Almost mechanical, as if she was experimenting.

He tried very hard not to be the guy who made comparisons. But their physical relationship just wasn’t blossoming. Physical intimacy with Kathryn had been tender, passionate, stormy at times, but even at the worst stages of their relationship sex between them had still been devastatingly good.  

Chakotay tried desperately not to think of Kathryn when he made love to Seven, but the more he told himself _don’t_ _think of Kathryn,_ the harder it got to truly be with Seven. Guilt made him pull back. It quickly became easier to keep his distance. Come to bed late. Get up early. He thought Seven never noticed. It seemed like he made a habit of getting things wrong, lately.

Seven’s eyes opened. “You were dreaming again last night.”

“Was I? Sorry if I disturbed you.” He sat up, as if ready to get out of bed. He paused, feet on the floor, searching for something to say that would divert the conversation from his recurring dream. “Are you going to see your aunt today?”

She looked at him, her face not unkind, but steadfastly ignoring his question. “You called the captain’s name.”

He flushed. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. “I’m sorry.” The words sounded lame, but he could find no others.

“I did not realise sooner, because I had no frame of reference. But our relationship isn't love. It's convenience.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we began seeing one another, you were in emotional pain and lonely. I was curious and inexperienced.”

He shook his head, red-faced with shame. “You must think I took advantage of the situation. It was never like that.”

“On the contrary. I fear it was I who took advantage of you.”

“Honestly, Seven, there’s nothing between Kathryn and me anymore. You know I haven’t seen her for weeks.”

With a sad smile, Seven laid her hand on the bed in the space between them. “Nevertheless, Captain Janeway is right here.”

He covered Seven’s hand with his own, regrets tearing at him from every angle. He didn’t want to hurt Seven. He didn’t want another relationship to fail. “Don’t give up on us,” he said softly. “I'll do better.”

Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t going to work.

#

The exhaustive debriefings, and then her promotion to the admiralty, not to mention the task of seeing her crew settled and her efforts to catch up with her own family, had all conspired to make Kathryn’s life a whirlwind in the time since they returned to Earth. It had been a busy six months, but frankly she was glad of the distraction. She knew herself well enough to understand the danger if she were to stop. Even so, throughout that time thoughts of her unborn child cast a long shadow.

Her baby was in stasis, at Starfleet Medical under the Doctor’s supervision. He had remained her personal physician, as he did for the few crewmembers who stayed in San Francisco.

Kathryn strode into the medical complex and searched out the Doctor’s office among the laboratories and wards.

“Good morning, Admiral,” the Doctor said, offering her a seat. His smile seemed warmer than she remembered it. The Alpha Quadrant must agree with him.

“Doctor.” She sat down.

“I’ve had to come up with a new greeting. _Please state the nature of the medical emergency_ doesn’t really fit any more. I’m trying out _please state the details of your health-related inquiry._ What do you think?”

Kathryn smiled. “Keep working on it.”

His face became serious. “So, are you ill, or have you come to talk about the baby?”

A lump formed in her throat. “The baby.” She blinked, unable to find the words to ask the questions that had been raging in her head all morning.

“Have you come to a decision?”

“This isn’t something I can decide alone. I promised Chakotay that I wouldn’t do anything without his consent, and I intend to honour that.”

It hurt like hell that neither Chakotay nor Seven had been in touch since the debriefings had ended, but she had taken it on the chin. Kathryn swallowed hard.  “I need to know a few things before I talk to him. Is the baby…I mean to say…what’s her condition?”

“In the exact state that she was when we placed her in stasis. Viable. That is to say, in so far as we can tell of a five week old embryo, she is in perfect health.”

“And I could carry her to term? Even though I’m post-menopausal?”

“All it needs is a little hormonal priming prior to implantation, and your body will take over and do the rest. The success rate for this procedure is very high. When will you know Commander Chakotay’s decision?”

“I plan on talking to him later today.”

Kathryn felt a flutter deep in her belly. _Only the truth from here on._ No matter what it cost. 

#

She should probably have called ahead, but she reasoned he might refuse to see her, so she decided to simply take a gamble and turn up on his doorstep. Her stomach turned over as she activated the chime, but she held her back straight. She’d beaten the Borg. Defeated countless alien threats and held her ship and crew together for seven long years. She could survive seeing Chakotay and Seven together.  

He opened the door with undisguised surprise. “Kathryn?”

Her words rushed out. “I’m sorry to come by unannounced. I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

He stepped backwards. “Come in,” he said with a lightness that felt deliberate. He tugged his ear, proof, if she needed any, that he was uncomfortable with her visit. “Um. Would you like coffee?”

“Thank you.” She swallowed, her chest tightening as she searched the living space for signs of Seven. “Is she here?”

“Seven? No. She left me,” he said softly, as he activated the replicator. “Coffee, black.” He passed her the cup.

“I'm sorry,” Kathryn said, unable to meet his eyes as she accepted the drink.

“There was someone else.” Chakotay’s voice was flat. He gestured for her to take a seat.

Kathryn felt a guilty rush at his words. Not pleasure, exactly. She didn’t want to see either of them hurt, she still cared too much about them both. She chose her words carefully. “That must have been difficult.”

“Not her, me,” he said, he sat down opposite her, with no drink of his own.

“Oh.” Kathryn was shocked to her core. He’d changed more than she’d thought. She couldn't imagine the old Chakotay as a cheater. She, Kathryn Janeway, with her lies and her hard edges, had twisted her loyal angry warrior into a man who cheated. She felt sick.

The silence fell oppressively between them. She turned her coffee cup around.

“Why did you come here?” he said at last.

“I need to talk to you about...” She tried to smile, but the words came out as a choke. “It’s about the… It’s about our child.”

His eyes seemed blacker than ever. “Is it damaged? No longer viable?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then you want my consent to dispose of it?”

“Oh god, Chakotay. Is that what you think of me? That I’d destroy the life you and I made together?”

“I don’t know, Kathryn. It’s been a long time since I’ve understood a thing about you.”

She tears pricked her eyes, but she forged ahead with the speech she’d prepared, while he sat listening, impassively.

She clasped her hands together in front of her on the table, taking comfort in the coolness of her own skin. “I'm quite ready to have this baby alone, but I won't force anything. If you can’t give your consent, then I’ll be terribly disappointed, but I won’t go ahead with the pregnancy. Or, if you do consent and you and…whoever you're with now want to be involved, then that's only fair.” She paused, giving herself space to breathe and prevent her voice cracking. “We can make it work, somehow. Share care of the child. She was made in love, after all. We can all love her.” Kathryn’s voice caught in her throat, and it was impossible to hide the tremor. “You probably should talk to your… significant other about all this before you decide.”

He looked at her for a very long time, the seconds spinning into painful eons. Then, as if he was fighting to hold onto a mask slipping away before her eyes, he began to talk.

“You misunderstood,” he said softly, “Seven left me because she said our relationship was overcrowded. You see, there were three of us in it from the start. Her, me and…” he looked up, his eyes fixing her in place like a speck of dust orbiting a dark star. “...you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “I don't understand.”

“I think it took Seven a while to realise I was never fully with her. But when she did, she had the good sense to end things. She was more courageous than me.”

“You’re the bravest man I know.”

He shook his head. “No. I was a coward, with you and with her. I’m not proud of myself.”

“We’ve both made mistakes,” Kathryn said quietly, playing with her coffee cup.

He made a soft sound in his throat. “You’re not wrong. It’s a long road back, Kathryn. But I’m ready to listen now.”

“Perhaps I should start by telling you exactly what happened when we got back from New Earth.”

He nodded. “I’ve never understood how it happened,” he said, “but I was too angry to ask. We were both diligent about our contraceptive boosters. We’d accepted we could never have children on that planet.”

Kathryn laughed drily, shaking her head. “Oh, the irony of that place. It did something to us, Chakotay. Messed with our hormones. My ovaries were releasing eggs at a vastly accelerated rate. And you, not to put too fine a point on it, were not firing blanks.” Chakotay raised an eyebrow, but didn’t seem to know what to say to that. “You must have noticed how over-sexed we were down there,” she went on.

He grinned. “Well, I figured it was two years-worth of unresolved sexual tension finding expression.”

It was her turn to flush, and she looked briefly away. “That side of things was always very good between us, even when we weren’t getting along.” She looked up, and pressed her lips together for a moment. “Anyway. We beamed back to _Voyager_ , the Doctor cured us, you left sickbay and he hit me with the news I was pregnant. I couldn’t believe it.”

“That’s why you were so upset that first night.”

“I couldn’t even think straight. I’m sorry I pushed you away that night. At that point I thought there were only two choices, to either carry the baby or terminate. I was a mess.” She shook her head, the memory of that terrible feeling as fresh in her memory as if it were last night, not five years ago. She gave a short, bitter laugh. “The cruellest irony of all, was that I’d decided to tell you. Can you believe it? The next morning I was standing right in front of your door when the Doctor commed me. He presented me with this third option, to put the baby in stasis.” She sighed, and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her forehead. “I thought it would give us both time to settle back into command before I told you. Hell, at that point, I still hoped that any day we’d find a way home. But things happened. First Seska and the Kazon, and trouble came thick and fast after that.”

He smiled a little, nodding. “Never a dull moment in the Delta Quadrant.”

“Before I knew it, months had passed, with one near disaster after another, and I just couldn’t see how I could be the captain and a mother. I dug myself deeper with every passing day that I hadn’t told you. Not only that, I was just months away from an early menopause because of the changes the planet had caused to my endocrine system. In fact, the Doctor preserved my few remaining eggs. He said it was standard to offer that in cases of predicted infertility.”

“Oh Kathryn. I wish you’d told me.” His tone laced with sadness. “I could have helped. All those years. Was there not one moment you could have found to let me in?”

“I came close to it, many times. But I could never bring myself to take that step.”

“You didn’t you trust me,” he said. “I would never have pressured you into bearing the child, you know.” There was hurt in his voice that ripped at her heart.

“It wasn’t a matter of trust. I felt terrible knowing she was there, waiting, suspended in sickbay. But I was unable to do a damn thing about it. I wanted to protect you from the dilemma that was twisting me. I thought if I carried that burden alone, I was protecting you. It was my _job_ to protect you, and all the crew.”

“Not from this. We could have dealt with the pain together.”

“I know. I understand that now. I had no right to withhold your child’s existence from you. I’m truly sorry.” She gave another bitter laugh. “You told me once that I was torturing myself and part of me liked it. You were right. After what I’d done, I didn’t think I had the right to expect comfort. I got so distorted with the lies, that I made mistake after mistake.”

He pressed his lips together, and lowered his eyes. “You’re not the only one who made mistakes. I started something with Seven that had no business existing.”

Kathryn tried not to flinch, but she was sure her face gave her away. “I thought you were punishing me.”

“I’m embarrassed to say there was an element of that. I didn’t seek her out, Kathryn, I just didn’t say no when she pursued me. I think part of me hoped you'd fight to keep me.”

“I cared for you both. I couldn’t interfere. And besides that, I was pretty damn angry.”

“Are you still angry? You’ve been known to hold a grudge.”

“No, I’m not angry. Not anymore. And I’m sorry I put you in the position to be so tempted.”

He held up his hand. “I blamed you for not telling me the truth, and yet I knew it wasn’t working between Seven and I because I wasn’t over you. And yet I didn’t tell her. It seemed easier these few months to live a lie than face the truth.”

“Oh Chakotay. All these lies we’ve told. How did our lives get so messed up?”

“I don’t know.”

She gave a half smile. “ _I_ do. Arrogant Starfleet captain makes a bad choice that strands a lot of good people seventy thousand lightyears from home.”

Chakotay tutted. “Or, Maquis terrorist lures Starfleet ship into Badlands, and the mission goes rapidly downhill from there.”

Kathryn smiled ruefully. “Perhaps we deserve each other.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t _all_ bad, that journey home.”

“No, it wasn’t. When I think of the memories I cherish, you're in every single one of them.” She reached for his hand. “Can’t we at least find our way back to being friends? For our child’s sake?” The next words caught in her throat and became a hoarse whisper. “I want her, Chakotay. More than anything, I want her.”

He looked down at her fingers, and took them lightly in his own hands. “If we’re even going to think about co-parenting a child, we have to have a solid friendship. Let’s see if we can rebuild _that_ before we decide about the baby.”

Kathryn nodded, her throat tight. It wasn’t as much as she’d hoped for, but her worst fear—that he would refuse entirely—hadn’t been realised. He had always been more cautious than her, and she didn’t blame him for wanting to take things slowly. This might be the biggest decision of their lives.

What could she do but respect his wishes? She could accept his terms, start re-building the friendship that had meant so much to her. That was her job now, she decided, not a brave woman warrior, and certainly not his captain. Just a woman who hoped to share a life with him, one day. When he was ready to trust her again. He wasn’t there yet, but that was okay. She’d walk alongside him until then.

If seven years in the Delta Quadrant had taught her anything, it was how to be a patient woman.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are interested in such things, the end of this chapter reprises the end of the prologue, Chapter 1, posted some 18 weeks ago, when Kathryn told Chakotay she wasn't ready to give up trying to escape New Earth, and effectively asked him to wait for her. Now he has asked her to wait for him. They have a lot of re-building to do!
> 
> I love reading all your comments and reactions to this story, and I'm really excited for the finale, which I hope will satisfy JC'ers a whole lot more than Endgame did. I will do my best to get the final chapter posted next weekend, but if it takes a few days longer, please be patient and know it's because I want to give the characters and you guys the best possible ending to this great journey.


	18. Circle of Love and Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay work out if they can be together, and what to do about their child.

Seated at his desk inside the Starfleet Academy building, Chakotay let his fingers rake over the rank insignia on his collar. The little row of three pips, replacing the Maquis bar he’d worn for seven long years, pleased him immensly. Once he’d decided to remain in Starfleet—and he hadn’t really been able to imagine doing anything else—the Academy seemed the logical choice. Instructor Chakotay. Teaching first year cadets intercultural science and anthropology might be a far cry from being _Voyager’s_ second in command, but Starfleet provided something familiar to hang onto when everything else had felt like sand shifting beneath his feet. The Admiralty granted his request happily enough, although he’d suspected Admiral Paris had a hand in it. Or perhaps even Kathryn.

_Kathryn_.

It had been a week since Kathryn blindsided him with her visit, and today they planned to meet for lunch. To start rebuilding their friendship. Could they find a way to untangle their mistakes and start over? He didn't just mean her concealing the baby. He'd never been truly honest with her, either, not about how he felt or what he wanted. Under her command, he'd always held back; in the beginning unable to tell her that he loved her, and later not telling her when she frustrated or hurt him. As for his relationship with Seven… he felt ashamed, even now, of starting a relationship under Kathryn’s nose with the last person she'd expect. He’d hurt Kathryn, he’d hurt Seven, and he knew damn well he’d made himself look a fool.

But it seemed both Kathryn and Seven had forgiven his misstep. He and Seven remained friends. She saw him as a mentor, still seeking his advice on negotiate new social entanglements, a role which pleased him much more than playing the lover who could never fully give himself. So maybe… maybe he should put his unease behind him and focus on the future. He smoothed his jacket, checked his pips were aligned one last time, and headed out towards the cafe where he and Kathryn had agreed to meet.

Chakotay spotted Kathryn across the crowded coffee shop, her head bowed, coffee cup in one hand, PADD in the other. How many times had he seen her like that, engrossed in work? He stopped in his tracks, frozen. Inexplicably, a small part of him wanted to turn right around and walk out, to go back to the quiet, safe life he’d lead since Seven left. That life might hold little joy, but it was free of the emotional turmoil that had beset his last months on _Voyager_.

Then she looked up at him and smiled. That smile. Her heart-spinning, throat catching smile of pure, distilled happiness. He hadn’t seen it often aboard _Voyager_ , but when he did it never failed to send him weak at the knees, and now it drove thoughts of flight from his mind. He wouldn't run. One way or another, he and Kathryn would work out if they could be together.

Kathryn put her coffee and PADD down and stood up, her face a little flushed, her eyes flitting from his face to just above his shoulder and back again. Was she nervous? For a moment he didn’t quite know how to greet her. Should he kiss her cheek like an old friend? Hug her? Shake hands? They were both in uniform, so none of those seemed right. He didn’t know what to do, and ended up tugging at his ear.

She gestured towards the chair opposite her own, and said quickly, “Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Antarian Cider?”

“Ah, tea. Thanks.”

He watched her disappear towards the counter. What was the matter with them? This was just lunch. Why did it feel so awkward?

Kathryn returned with his drink and two menus. “Um, this place does an amazing pear, pecan and blue cheese salad.”

“Ah, yes, one of the many things Neelix could never really manage well was cheese. No matter how hard Tom Paris lobbied for pizza.”

Chakotay glanced up briefly, to see Kathryn closely studying the menu.

She looked up. “I had a communication from Neelix just a couple of days ago. He and the Talaxian colony are doing very well.”

Chakotay nodded. “That’s good to know.”

They lapsed into silence, and he stared at the menu in front of him without really seeing the words. It felt like they had a mountain to climb.

“I’ll try that salad,” he finally said.

“Me too,” Kathryn put her menu down, and sighed very gently, seeming to gather her resolve. “So, tell me about your role at the Academy.”

He relaxed a little at the safe topic, and while waiting for their food he told her about his classes, the most recent intake of students, all in their first three months of training, and how satisfying it was to see them settle into Academy life.

After the server placed their plates on the table, Chakotay said, “Of course, there’s always one or two who find it hard to find their feet. I’m doing what I can to help.”

“You were always good at seeing what the crew needed, and supporting them. Better than me.”

“Hey, it wasn’t all on you. Your job was to keep us alive and get us home, mine was to keep us functioning smoothly, and Neelix was there to keep us happy.”

“Well, that’s a gross oversimplification.”

He chuckled. “There was never anything simple about life in the Delta Quadrant, was there?”

“Only once,” she whispered, a sadness creeping into her eyes. “For a few months, it felt like all the complications fell away.”

“I know.” Memories of New Earth, and her obvious sadness, threatened to swamp him, and he bit his lip.  

She looked away, clearly trying to regain her composure. Even now, he couldn’t stand to watch her pain and do nothing. “Kathryn, despite everything, I was never sorry _Voyager_ came back for us. Sorry for what we lost, yes, but never sorry rejoined our crew. Our family.”

She nodded, but didn’t speak for a moment. Then she smiled. “How do you like your salad?”

“I like it very much. And Kathryn, I like that you and I are talking again.”

She smiled again, warmly this time. “So do I.”

#

After that, they met for lunch twice a week over the next month, and each time Chakotay felt the warmth of her presence grow, her smile relax and deepen, and he quickly realised that none of his visceral attraction to her had faded. But if he was honest, he was a little worried. Each time they met she had coffee and a PADD in her hands, and while he told her about taking a canoe up the Napa River with a fellow instructor, and visiting an exhibition of Gamma Quadrant artefacts, she told him little about her work but talked a lot about their former crew. Their assignments, who had gotten promoted, married, pregnant. Chakotay was pleased Harry had finally made Lieutenant, and that Naomi Wildman would have a baby brother or sister, but he had the feeling Kathryn was watching it all from behind a pane of glass, observing but not touching. She was in danger of becoming just as absorbed in her Starfleet role and cut off from life as she had been on _Voyager._

He glanced at her sideways. “These new cadets. They’re so serious. One of them asked me if I’d grade his paper early so he could rewrite it and re-submit for a higher grade. He’s been asking the same of all his tutors.”

Kathryn grinned. “Got to admire dedication.”

“Yes, but I encouraged him to remember to have a life, too.”

“Ah, _life_. That thing that happens while we’re busy having a career.”

He and put his hand on her arm. It was the first time he’d touched her so deliberately, and she looked down at his hand, and then up at him. “Even the eagle, Kathryn,” he said quietly.

She looked at him quizzically. “What does that mean?”

“Do you remember what I told you on New Earth? A story among my people, _even the eagle must know when to sleep._ ”

“You wanted me to stop searching for a cure,” she said, a little stiffly.

“I _wanted_ you to live your life, not lose yourself in another mission.”

She squinted at him. “What are you saying?”

“Look, I spent years of my life on _causes_. First the Maquis, then getting our crew home. I’m not saying I regret any of that. But now… I need to find a way to have a Starfleet career _and_ a personal life. I think that’s what you need, too.”

She stared at him, frowned and blinked, twice, as if she hadn’t expected that less-that-subtle challenge, and she wasn’t quite sure how to respond. On _Voyager_ she would have brushed his concerns aside, or snapped at him, depending on her mood. To be honest, she looked momentarily out of her depth.

She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I know how. Perhaps I did once, but it seems like the Delta Quadrant sucked that ability right out of me.”

“Well,” he said kindly, “You could start by doing something other than work and meeting me for lunch.”

“But—”

He held up a hand to cut her off, and he didn’t miss the surprised look on her face as he did so. “If we’re going to even consider having a child, we have to be able to blend the demands of Starfleet and our needs as people, don’t you think?”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak. He went on, “Look, I told you I’m in contact with Seven. Have you thought of contacting her?”

“Many times. But… How do you think she would feel about that?”

“I think she’d welcome it. She was glad you and I are friends again. She told me recently she ‘had noticed the absence of Captain Janeway’s guidance over recent months’. I think that’s her way of saying she misses you.”

“You’re encouraging me to get in touch with your ex?”

“No. I’m encouraging you to reconnect with someone who was very important to you, for many years.”

“Ah,” Kathryn said without elaborating

Chakotay watched her face for a moment and couldn’t for the life of him tell what she would do. Still a great mystery, Kathryn Janeway. Would she ever be any different? He knew one thing, though. Before he made life-changing choices about his future involving her, _she_ had to decide what kind of life she really wanted.

#

That night, Kathryn sat before the comms terminal in her apartment, a glass of red wine in her hand. Was Chakotay right? Was she avoiding life by jumping back into work? Becoming the lonely grey-haired Admiral who had lost so much that she was prepared to rewrite history?

True, she’d kept up regular communication with her former crew, smoothing their way back into Alpha Quadrant life, but she’d done it via comms, at a distance. What did that say about her? She’d decided to be honest with Chakotay. Perhaps she had to start being honest with herself, too. If she couldn’t make space to live a little now, how would a child ever fit into her life?

Kathryn leaned back in her chair, holding the wine glass on her leg. She had no more idea how to navigate this journey than she had all those years ago after she’d destroyed the Caretaker’s Array. Less, even. At least then she’d clearly known what the goal had been. Get the ship and her people back to Earth. But this? ‘Live your life’. What the hell did that mean? It sounded huge but at the same time too nebulous to grasp. Damn it! Why was life this confusing, unending maze she had to fight her way through? Suddenly she felt just as alone as she had in the DQ.

_You don’t have to be alone_ , a small voice at the back of her head chirped. _You have people. People who care. Isn’t it about time you turned to them?_

She sat up straight. “Computer. Place a call to Phoebe Janeway.”

#

Four days later, with her nieces in bed, Kathryn sat in her sister’s kitchen, a half empty bottle of red wine on the counter between them. Once her story started, it had poured out. New Earth. The baby. The mess she’d made of things between her and Chakotay over the years.

Phoebe listened silently, and then said, “Hell on a stick, Kath. No wonder you’ve been tied up in knots since you got home.”

“Admiral Janeway…she lost herself, I think.” Kathryn went on. “That’s why she came back and…” Kathryn clammed up, realising she had probably said more than she should to her sister, a civilian.

Phoebe refilled her glass. “Uh, oh. Talking about yourself in the third person is never a good sign.”

“I want things to be different. I want our baby, now more than ever.” Kathryn grimaced. “I know I can’t be the same person I was out there in the Delta Quadrant. Chakotay says I have to find time to live my life, but that sounds like an impossible task.” She sighed. “I don’t even know who he wants me to be.”

“Sis, I think you have that the wrong way around. You have to find out who y _ou_ want to be, and let him decide if he wants to be with the person you are now. That’s the only way I see this story having a happy ending.”

“You’re right. Trouble is, I lived in Captain Janeway’s skin so long, I don’t think I _know_ who I am now.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Phoebe said, not unkindly but with an edge of sarcasm.

“What do you mean?”

Phoebe sighed. “These last six months it’s like you’re back, but you’re not back. You’ve been so busy, settling your crew, absorbed in work. We’ve barely seen you, and when we do, you seem miles away. Mom and me thought it would get better over time, but it hasn’t. I thought you’d want to get to know my kids, but you’ve kept your distance. Although, with what you’ve just told me, I’m starting to understand why.”

“I’m sorry, Phoebe. Really.” Kathryn put her head in her hands. She had some serious bridges to mend. Starting now. She looked up. “What are you and the kids doing this weekend?”

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

“Do you think Mom is free?”

“Oh, she will be,” Phoebe said, grinning. “What did you have in mind?”

#

At the weekend, the Janeway family took a walk in the woods, followed by a picnic by the lake. The kids and Kathryn swam, while her mother and Phoebe dozed. It had been a wonderful day, and Kathryn felt more relaxed than she had in a good long while. Now, they were all back at Gretchen’s house, and Kathryn sat on a stool next to her youngest niece. Lara was exasperatedly trying to show her how to play major scales on the piano. “No, Aunt Kathryn. Not like that. Like this!”

Kathryn rolled her eyes at Gretchen, who sat in an armchair, watching and smiling. “Not used to taking orders, hmmm?” her mother noted.

“Oh, _I_ don’t mind taking orders. It’s just my fingers don’t like taking orders from _me_.”  

Phoebe was grinning, and had come to stand by her side. “You always said you wanted to learn a musical instrument.”

“Oh, I’d love to. But I don’t have time.”

“This is just a shot in the dark, Kath,” Phoebe said, bending in close and tapping her fingers lightly on her sister’s shoulder, “but I have a sneaking suspicion this is what your Chakotay meant about finding time to live a life…”

Kathryn stopped playing and looked up as a crack of realisiation hit her. It wasn’t a _big_ task to live a life. It was a thousand small things strung together. It was sharing picnics and swimming and learning to play the piano.

“I’ll take lessons,” she said. Then she turned to her mother. “And I’ll play for you. At Christmas.”

Her mother was on her feet in a moment, enveloping both her and Lara in a hug that had the young girl squealing and Kathryn brimming with tears she hadn’t known she needed to cry.

She gotten her crew home and settled them into their new-old lives. Now it was time to create a life for herself. She couldn't just will it into existence. She had to build it.

#

As soon as she returned to her apartment that evening she put in a call to Seven.

“Admiral. This is unexpected. What can I do for you?”

Kathryn hesitated for only a moment. The direct approach had always been the best with Seven. “I want to apologise for the way I treated you at the end of our mission. And for not keeping in touch with you after. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

Seven barely blinked. “Apology accepted. For my part I regret that my relationship with Chakotay caused you pain.”

Kathryn didn’t baulk at Seven’s bluntness. She’d expected no less. “Chakotay and I are friends again now, that’s all that matters.”

Seven bowed her head for a moment, then looked up. “Both you and Chakotay were there for me at times of great transitions in my life. You, when I was disconnected from the collective, and he, when I had difficulty adjusting to life here on Earth. I will always value the help you both gave me.” Seven’s face broke into a wry smile. “Even if I appeared less than grateful at the time.”

“You certainly had your moments.” Kathryn chuckled, rubbing her neck. “I have many regrets from the Delta Quadrant, but you, Seven, are not one of them. I hope you and I can be friends again too.”

“I would like that,” Seven said, with a bright smile that Kathryn hadn’t seen her wear before. “Will I see you at the Integrated Systems Engineering Symposium on Bedris Prime? I have been asked to attend by Admiral Paris.”

Kathryn smiled. “Oh Seven, I think we can do better than that. Are you free for lunch next week?”

Seven smiled, and they quickly arranged to meet. Next, Kathryn contacted B’Elanna, and after that, she had a suggestion for Chakotay. Lunch on Wednesdays was nice. But wouldn’t a picnic at the weekend be better?

#

“Archer Park,” Chakotay said, taking in the fresh air and the expanse of trees that stretched ahead. “I haven’t been here for years. The Academy boxing club used to run the south-west edge.” He had been pleasantly surprised when Kathryn asked him if he wanted to spend the afternoon with a picnic, but he had offered to pack the provisions. He suspected she would be no better at dealing with food than she had been in the Delta Quadrant. They’d met by the swings at the corner of the park, and then ambled towards the shade of the trees.

“I saw B'Elanna and Tom Monday evening. Mirral is growing so fast," Kathryn said.

"She is, isn't she? One minute she's crawling, next thing I know she's climbing up the furniture and launching herself at me." They both laughed, and found a spot to spread their blanket.

"It's good you went to see them, Kathryn," Chakotay said, glad she was connecting now, instead of just orchestrating from a distance.

Kathryn looked almost smug. "And," she went on, "I met Seven for lunch on Thursday. She’s doing very well.”

“I’m glad to hear that, too.” Although in truth, the thought of the two women he’d slept with most recently chatting over lunch gave him an unexpected twinge of discomfort. “I’m sure you had a lot to catch up with.” He only hoped they were not comparing notes _too_ closely.

Kathryn grinned and shot him a sly smile as she opened the picnic basket. “Yes we did.” She must have noticed his twinge of embarrassment, as she put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. We hardly talked about you at all. She’s met someone, you know. Says he has a very logical mind for a human and finds social interactions as baffling as she does at times. He’s a systems engineer for Avenstra, a cybernetics company.”

“Sounds like they’re made for each other.”

They chatted and ate under the warm sun, and afterwards, Chakotay lay back on the blanket. He found it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open.

“You look tired,” Kathryn noted, propping herself up on one elbow.

“I didn’t sleep well last night. It’s those dreams again.”

“You never did speak about them. Want to tell me now?”

He bit his lip. Something deep inside him burned to bring those dark visions into the light, but at the same time he was a little ashamed. Still, wasn’t this rebuilding about honesty? Testing to see what their friendship could withstand, before they decided to have a child, which would surely stretch them in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine. If revealing his sordid dream was going to brake them, then perhaps they should break now rather than later.

He plunged ahead. “The dreams started right after we went into the neurogenic field that caused those intense hallucinations. The manifestations of our worst fears.”

“I remember you experienced something terrible in there. You never told me what it was.”

He took a shuddering breath. “I saw _you_ , Kathryn. You were cold. Cruel. You said you didn’t need me. That you’d never loved me. You taunted me. Sexually, I mean. Suggested I watch you with other men. It made me angry, but…” He glanced away, spoke quietly, his face flushed with embarrassment, “it also turned me on.”

She smiled, kindly. “I don’t think you should worry about finding that arousing. Lots of people have that kind of fantasy.”

He held up his hand. “There’s more. I was furious. I was so enraged at your behaviour, the next thing I knew I had my hands around your throat. You remember how real it felt inside that damn place? I was trapped. I couldn’t stop what I was doing.” He sat up, shifting away from her as she reached out to him. “I choked you to death, Kathryn.” He looked at his fists, now clenched, with an expression of disgust.

“Oh, Chakotay. It was your worst fear. It doesn’t mean you wanted that to happen,” she said, reaching for him to comfort him. “It probably means just the opposite. That you were worried about the effect our relationship might have on the ship. Besides, that whole place seemed designed to torment us.”

“I suppose.”

“Your nightmares, afterwards,” she prodded. “That’s what they were?”

He nodded. “I had that same dream on and off all the time we were on _Voyager_. I thought it would stop when we got home and weren’t seeing each other every day. But it didn’t. If anything it got worse. Some nights…” he sighed. “Put it this way, I woke Seven calling your name in my sleep more than once. _That_ wasn’t easy to explain.”

“Oh dear,” Kathryn said sombrely.

“No wonder she thought our relationship was overcrowded,” Chakotay added, his voice full of self-reproach. He looked up at Kathryn. He’d never once asked her what she’d seen in the neurogenic field. It had felt disingenuous when he’d had no intention of sharing his own secret. But suddenly he felt emboldened to ask. “What did you see?”

“I saw the two things most precious to me destroyed right in front of me. You and _Voyager_. But unlike your vision, I understood how that was my worst fear, so it never haunted me.” Kathryn laughed sourly. “Besides, I had plenty of other things to trouble me. Not least my guilty secret about our daughter.”

Chakotay nodded. “I think deep down I always worried that our relationship would damage your ability to command. And I was a little jealous. Not so much of other men...”

Kathryn raised an amused eyebrow.

He held up a hand and grinned lightly. “Although I admit I could have happily punched both Q and Kashyk on the nose. But I never feared you’d leave me for another man. My competition was always the ship and the crew. And of course that was as it should be _._ I understood I had to share you with the mission. And on a good day, I didn’t even begrudge it too much.”

“Was it really about competition, though?” Kathryn said thoughtfully. “You’ve never struck me as a jealous man. And I know you were as dedicated to the crew and mission as I was.”

Chakotay shifted uncomfortably. He’d asked her to look deeper into herself, so it was only right that he did the same, even if it scared him. “I suppose…I think a very small, dark part of me wanted to own you completely. Sexually. Emotionally. Maybe underneath, I was always terrified I’d lose you.” His throat was tight with the admission, shame swamping him. He gripped her hand, a little desperately. “But believe me, I’d never hurt you. Never.”

“I know, of course I know that. Those latent desires probably exist in all of us. I don’t believe they reflect our true nature.” She lay down again, resting her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. “You’re the kindest, truest man I know, Chakotay.”

He relaxed a little. “You’re not horrified?”

Kathryn laughed. “It takes a little more than the rumblings of a subconscious mind to horrify me, Chakotay.”

For long moments they lay in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of their bodies pressed close under the blue sky.

Finally she said softly. “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me last week. I’m going to work out how to build a life. I’m taking piano lessons. And I’ve invited Admiral Carter and his husband over for dinner next week.”

Chakotay turned his head on one side, squinting against the sun, but also in exaggerated disbelief. “You’re cooking?”

“Unlike the replicator in my quarters on _Voyager_ , the one in my apartment doesn’t hate me.”

A happy squealing from the park made them both turn. A boy, no more than three, chased his father around the park, while his mother followed close behind pushing a stroller with a baby. She stopped and bent over to wipe ice cream from the younger child's face. On the grass, the father made a big show of stumbling over, and the chasing child jubilantly leapt on his chest.

Kathryn watched them intently. Then she said, “I know he wasn’t yours, but do you ever think of Seska’s baby? I wonder, sometimes, what would have happened if he’d stayed on _Voyager?_ ”

“Once I got used to the idea I actually ended up feeling a little disappointed that the child wasn’t mine. But it would have been complicated. I hope the kid is okay, wherever he is. I guess he’d be five or six years old now.”

Kathryn shook her head. “Part Cardassian, part Kazon. He’s going to have a temper.”

“Yes.” They lapsed into silence. Chakotay wondered if she would turn the conversation to their own child, but she didn’t, she just gazed patiently at the sky, her eyes following the clouds as they drifted in the summer blue.

What would a child of theirs look like? Dark hair or red? Brown eyes or blue? These questions were more than hypothetical. Their child already existed, her DNA was already written, her features already coded for. She was almost as real as the child in the stroller with ice cream dripping down their chin.

“Do you think about our child?” he prompted, softly.

“All the time,” she admitted. “I wonder what she’d look like. How her voice would sound. If she’d have my stubborn streak, or your kindness.” She drew in a sharp breath, and looked into the distance, before she smiled gently. “But I can wait. I’ve waited this long. You’re right. We need to rebuild our friendship first.”

He grinned. “And how do you think that’s going?”

Kathryn got up. “Pretty good. You know what would make it better, though?” She offered her hand.

He clasped it, a tingle of anticipation in his belly. “What would make it better?”

She pulled him to his feet, nodding towards the corner of Archer Park. “You buying me an ice cream.”

She slid an arm around his waist as they walked across the grass, past the little family enjoying the open space. The father hoisted his son up onto his shoulders, and the child whooped and squealed with joy as they galloped over the green. Chakotay slipped his arm across Kathryn’s shoulders. It felt comfortable, this open display of affection, without concern over what people would think if someone stumbled across them.

He grinned, enjoying the warm feeling of the sun on his back and her body close to him once again. “Ice cream would improve our friendship?”

“Immeasurably.”

“Then I’m all for it.”

#

Three days later, Chakotay arrived home to a message from Kathryn.

“Chakotay. I hate to bother you. It’s just… I need your help. It’s nothing serious or urgent.” She dragged her fingers through her hair, which was growing out, and she looked a little disheveled. “Well, it _is_ serious. And fairly urgent. Oh, would you just contact me when you get in?”

Chakotay frowned at her image on the comm link. She looked a little rattled, for sure, but what kind of crisis could Kathryn Janeway not handle? And if it had been truly urgent, she’d have contacted him straight away on the Starfleet channel, not their personal systems. So he was a little concerned, but more intrigued.

“Computer, place a call to Kathryn Janeway’s home terminal.”

When she answered, she was still frowning.

“Kathryn? What’s wrong?”

“You remember I told you I’d be entertaining Admiral Carter and his husband on Thursday? Well he caught me today and said, and I quote, “I meant to tell you, Saren-Sen is observing Tel-ahk-Noir. It’s a Helatik custom. It means he doesn’t eat any replicated food for the next twenty one days. I hope that won’t make life difficult.”

Chakotay suppressed a grin. “What did you say?”

“I told him it would be no trouble at all.” Kathryn groaned. “Chakotay! What on Earth am I going to do?”

He worked very hard to keep a straight face. “Relax, Kathryn. Do you want some help?”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” They spent almost an hour on the video feed planning the menu, creating a list of ingredients, and he offered to come straight to her apartment when he left work tomorrow and help her cook. He felt an unaccountable feeling of warmth in his chest as she accepted, but he didn’t figure out _why_ until he was brushing his teeth later that night. This was hardly the first difficult situation he’d helped her out of, but this felt different. Personal. She was prepared to admit she couldn’t do everything and ask for his help. And that seemed like a very good way to rebuild their friendship.

#

As Kathryn set the table, she heard Chakotay humming in the kitchen. He had been a blessing, helping her research appropriate foods to serve and then with all this preparation. What would she do without him?

“I’ll just check the temperature of this, and then I’ll go,” he called.

She returned to the kitchen. He stood by the oven, his smile relaxed and calm. As if he belonged in her kitchen. She had an overwhelming desire to place her fingers lightly on his shoulder. Lay her palm flat on his chest. Feel the warmth of his arms around her again, the comfort of his body close to hers. He glanced up, and his dimples capped the effect, weakening her at the knees.

He nodded at the oven. "That needs five more minutes."

"Perfect." She took a step closer, almost hypnotised by his image. _Perfect_. He was. In every way. His dark eyes, his warm lips, and hands that knew how to touch her. Her passion for him hadn't waned or faltered. She remembered precisely how good he could make her feel.

He looked across at her, his breath catching, desire sparking in his eyes. "I should leave you to your guests," he said softly, but although his words said one thing, his closeness said another.

She took a final step towards him, her voice quavering. “And let me take all the credit? You're too kind.”

“I’m happy to help.” His voice was little more than a whisper now, his hands raised as if he was about to reach for her face, as if he too was remembering how well they could move together. How they had generated so much damn _heat_. On New Earth. In her quarters. Exploring each other’s bodies until it felt like they knew each other inside out.

She held her breath, hoping they would turn the corner, shift back from just friends to something more. “Why don’t you stay for dinner?” she whispered.

He hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea—” In that moment, the door chimed.

She wanted to curse. He stepped back, and whatever had been building between them slipped away.

“They’re early,” Kathryn muttered.

Chakotay picked up the oven gloves. “I’ll get this out of the oven for you, to let it stand.”

Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment to regain her centre, a little hurt and perplexed at his refusal, but she nodded. “I’ll get the door.”

Ben Carter and his husband, Saren-Sen, were indeed early. Kathryn had known Carter loosely at the Academy, and they had become firm friends when they both served on the _Al-Batani._ He'd met and married Saren-Sen, an affable mountain of a man, while she had been in the Delta Quadrant, and she had to admit they were a good match. It was high time Carter settled down, and within five minutes of meeting him, Kathryn decreed the enthusiastic Helatik perfect for the job.

“It was a pleasant surprise when you invited us, Kathryn,” Carter said.

“I’ve not been the most sociable creature since we got back, but I’m turning over a new leaf.”

“Oh, and does that have anything to do with your handsome former first officer whom I saw lurking in the kitchen?”

“Chakotay? We’re friends. He’s just helping with the food preparation…”

A look passed between Carter and Saren-Sen, and before Kathryn knew it, the Helatik was already half way into the kitchen.

"Excuse my husband," Carter said affectionately, "he's an incorrigible gastrophile and very inquisitive. Some might even say nosy."

Kathryn soon heard Saren-Sen's voice boom from the kitchen. "Ah… is that a kanjantan fripesk? I didn't know you could get fresh manya in San Francisco!" She raised an eyebrow at Carter, who shrugged. She strode into the kitchen.

Chakotay was grinning. "A friend of mine brings a case in from Risa once in a while. I've been trying out new recipes, now that I've got a kitchen again."

"Then it is my good fortune that you join us!"

"Oh, I’m just helping Kathryn out. I wasn’t planning on staying for dinner."

Saren-Sen clapped Chakotay on the shoulder. "Friend! There is no greater honour than eating with the chef!"

Kathryn interjected, “Sounds like a wonderful idea to me.”

“Looks like I’m staying,” Chakotay said with a raised eyebrow.

The evening was an unqualified success in Kathryn’s opinion. The food was excellent, thanks to Chakotay, and Kathyrn liked Saran-Sen more with every passing moment.

“Kathryn,” Carter said in a low voice as Saren-Sen trailed Chakotay into the kitchen to consult him on the details of some recipe or another, “Don’t tell me you spent seven years opposite that fine specimen of a man and came back here ‘just friends’.”

Kathryn groaned silently. She’d forgotten just how direct Carter could be. “Let’s just say the situation is complicated. We’re taking our time to work a few things out.” Realising that re-direction was probably her safest bet, she added, “You and Saran-Sen, on the other hand, seem entirely at ease.” The open affection that passed between the two married men left little room for doubt that they adored one another. It pleased Kathryn greatly to see her old friend happy.

Carter glanced at the kitchen, smiling. “Things have never been so good.” He grasped Kathryn’s hand lightly for a moment, and said softly, “Whatever these challenges may be, I wish you happiness.”

It was late into the evening by the time Carter and Saren-Sen left, and although Kathryn told Chakotay she could manage the cleaning up, she was grateful that he offered to help.

Each time he brushed by her in the small kitchen, she felt that familiar tingle, the sense of _wanting_ that she’d noticed and dismissed the very first moment he appeared on her bridge. She’d kept on dismissing her feelings for the next two years, until she finally let go, that balmy night on New Earth when the fireflies had filled the air, and they’d made love for the first time in her small bed in their tiny cabin. She realised with a jolt how intensely she craved that closeness again.

She followed him from the kitchen, her body alive with wanting.

He glanced her way, smiling in the way that always sent her heart racing. “I suppose I should really get going this time,” he said softly, hesitating.

She caught his arm as he reached for his jacket. His eyes were deep and dark, and as he looked at her with his gentle smile, her heart pounded.

“I’d like it if you stayed,” she said breathlessly.

He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, pulling her towards her couch, gently guiding her to sit beside him. “Kathryn. We have things to figure out, don’t we?”

“I don’t know if I _can_ figure this out. For once in my life I don’t have any answers, or much of a plan.” She closed her eyes for a moment before she plunged on. “But I just can’t imagine life without you. I love you.”

She looked into his eyes, searching for his answer, hoping against hope that now was the time they could put the mistakes aside, end the distance between them.

He swallowed, blinked slowly.

Her blood thundered. She was poised on the edge of a precipice, the sharp rocks of heartbreak scattered below. _Please,_ she begged any fate that cared to listen, _please bring him back to me._

And then slowly his face melted into a smile. There was the man who had loved her so sweetly. Made her a bath and a boat and pinned her pips back on her collar when she needed them. The man who had carried her burdens for so long.

“I've never stopped loving you,” he said softly, his voice like velvet caress. “Not for a single moment.” He leaned in and touched her face. “I want you, Kathryn. And I want our baby. I want us to be a family.”

As his lips met hers it felt like the sun rising over New Earth, and the crash of the ocean on distant shores, and for the first time since they left their little home in the forest countless light-years away, she felt truly, honestly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we all love a happy ending, I've written a short epilogue that I'll post directly after this chapter.


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just to round things up, a glimpse into the future....

In the kitchen, little Kataya Janeway, aged five, with her dark straight hair and blue eyes, stared up at her parents. Neither of them were in their uniforms, and that was good news. The best. Even better, Daddy had her red wellies in his hands.

“Are we going to Grandma's?”

Mommy crouched beside her, and bopped her nose. “How did you guess?”

Kataya giggled. “You always pack my welly boots when we go to see Grandma. Even in summer.”

“Yes, we are going to Indiana.” Daddy laughed and ruffled her hair. “You’re too clever, little one.”

Kataya beamed. “And I know a secret,” she added in a hushed voice. Kataya had heard Mommy talking to the Doctor last night, about _hormones levels_ and _embryo transfer_ and a _successful implantation_. She’d had to look up a few of those words, but Kataya was almost six now and knew her way around the Federation Citizen’s medical wiki better than all of her classmates.

“Oh, do you?” said Mommy, moving closer.

Kataya grinned. She leaned in to whisper in Mommy’s ear. “Does Daddy know about the baby in your tummy?”

Mommy looked suddenly serious and snuggled Kataya onto her lap. “Oh yes,” she said, glancing at Daddy. “He knows about that. He helped make the baby.”

Daddy put his arms around them both, making the snuggle so much better, although he had to get down on his knees on the kitchen floor. Even Brandy, their gangly red setter, poked her wet nose in.

Mommy looked up at Daddy. “Sweetheart, Mommy and Daddy agreed before you were born. No secrets.”

Kataya ran her fingers through her mother’s hair, and then turned and poked one of the dimples on Daddy’s cheek—dimples that everyone said he’d given her, too. “Will our new baby get dimples as well?”

“If we’re lucky,” Mommy said, her eyes full of the love that filled Kataya’s young life.

Kataya felt fingers move in to tickle under her ribs. She couldn’t tell whose fingers they were, but it didn’t matter. Content and surrounded by a warm circle of truth and love, Kataya laughed, and the sound rang loud and true all through the Janeway home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has supported me with kudos, comments and encouragement through out the long journey this story has taken. I've loved writing it!  
> I especially want to thank @calendinablue for the expert beta reading. She helped raise this story to another level!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite and appreciate all feedback, including:
> 
> Short comments  
> Long comments  
> Questions  
> Constructive criticism  
> <3 as extra kudos  
> Reader-reader interaction
> 
> I always reply to comments within a day or two; they make me unreasonably happy, and encourage me to keep going. This is the story I've had in my heart for a long time, and I hope you enjoy reading as much as I've enjoyed writing. X


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